THE  FRENCH  CLASSICAL  ROMANCES 


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The 
French  Classical  Romances 

Complete  in  Twenty  Crown  Octavo  Volumes 
Editor-in-Chief 

EDMUND    GOSSE,    LL.D. 

With  Critical  Introductions  and  Interpretative  Essays  by 

HENRY    JAMES  PROF.    RICHARD    BURTON  HENRY    HARLAND 

ANDREW    LANG  PROP.    P.   C    DE    SUMICHRAST 

THE    EARL    OF    CREWE  HIS    EXCELLENCY    M.   CAMBON 

PROF.    WM.    P.    TRENT  ARTHUR    SYMONS  MAURICE     HEWLETT 

DR.    JAMES     FITZMAURICE-KELLY  RICHARD     MANSFIELD 

BOOTH    TARKINGTON  DR.    RICHARD     GARNETT 

PROF.    WILLIAM    M.    SLOANE  JOHN    OLIVER     HOBBES 


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ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN 


Brigadier   Frederick 


AND 


The   Dean's  Watch 


TRANSLATED    FROM    THE     FRENCH 


WITH    A    CRITICAL    INTRODUCTION 

BY   PROF.    RICHARD   BURTON,    OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY    OF    MINNESOTA 

A     FRONTISPIECE     AND       NUMEROUS 

OTHER       PORTRAITS        WITH 

DESCRIPTIVE    NOTES  BY 

OCTAVE     UZANNE 


P.  F.  COLLIER   &   SON 
NEW    YORK 


COPYMOBT,    I9OX 
BY     D.     APPLKTOM    *    COMPANY 


•mtrancurx   U*1  CALIFORNIA 
p$  SANTA  BARBARA 

<?<238 


ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN 


Fashions  change  in  literature,  but  certain 
things  abide.  There  may  be  disputes  from  gener- 
ation to  generation,  even  from  decade  to  decade, 
as  to  what  is  aesthetic,  or  what  is  beautiful ;  there 
is  less  as  to  what  is  human.  The  work  of  the 
French  writers,  whose  duality  is  quite  lost  in  the 
long-time  association  of  their  names  for  the  pur- 
poses of  story  making,  seems  at  the  least  to  make 
this  claim  to  outlast  its  authors :  it  is  delightfully 
saturated  with  humanity. 

And  this  humanity  is  of  the  sort  that,  since  it 
can  be  understood  of  all  men,  is  therefore  very 
widely  acceptable.  It  is  well  to  emphasize  the 
point  in  an  attempt  to  explain  the  popularity  of 
Erckmann-Chatrian,  immediate  or  remote.  There 
are  other  reasons,  to  be  sure  :  but  this  one  is  at 
the  door,  knocking  to  be  heard.  But  to  speak  of 
the  essential  humanity  of  these  books  is  not  to 
deny  or  ignore  their  art ;  that  they  have  in  abun- 
dance— quite  as  truly  indeed  as  the  work  of  your 

A— Vol.  11 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

most  insistent  advocate  of  "  art  for  art  "  ;  but  it  is 
art  for  life's  sake.  In  the  best  sense,  the  verisimil- 
itude of  the  Erckmann-Chatrian  stories  is  admira- 
ble, impressive.  They  are,  as  a  rule,  exquisitely  in 
key.  They  produce  a  cumulative  effect  by  steadily, 
unobtrusively  clinging  to  a  single  view-point,  that 
of  the  speaker  who  is  an  eye-witness,  and  the  re- 
sult is  a  double  charm — that  of  reality  and  that  of 
illusion.  One  sees  life,  not  through  the  eyes  of 
the  authors,  but  through  the  eyes  of  the  characters ; 
hence  the  frequent  setting-forth  of  principles  is  re- 
lieved from  didacticism  by  the  careful  way  in  which 
the  writers  refrain  from  expressing  their  own  opin- 
ion. So  artistic  are  they  that  they  even  indulge  in 
the  delicate  ruse  of  opposing  the  views  which  are 
really  their  own,  thereby  producing  a  still  stronger 
effect  of  fair-mindedness  and  detachment. 

Yet,  as  the  world  knows,  in  the  most  justly 
famed  of  their  books,  the  so-called  National 
Novels,  it  is  their  purpose  to  preach  against  war ; 
they  are  early  advocates  of  the  principles  of  the 
Peace  Congress  at  The  Hague,  forerunners,  in 
their  own  fashion,  of  the  ideas  expressed  in  art 
and  literature  by  later  men  like  Tolstoy  and 
Verestchagin. 

The  local  colour — one  still  uses  the  phrase  as 
convenient — is    remarkable    for    its    sympathetic 

vi 


iff i  iiiiiiHifr 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

fidelity ;  the  style  well-nigh  a  model  of  prose 
whose  purpose  it  is  to  depict  in  homely  yet  pic- 
turesque terms  the  passage  of  great  events,  seen 
by  humble,  it  may  be  Philistine,  folk,  and  hence 
not  seen  couleur  de  rose.  When  a  heartfelt  sym- 
pathy for  average  human-kind  rises  to  the  surface 
of  the  author's  feeling,  some  candid,  cordial  phrase 
is  ever  found  to  express  it. 

The  work  of  Erckmann-Chatrian,  voluminous 
as  it  is,  can  be  easily  classified  :  it  mainly  con- 
sists of  the  idyl  and  the  picture  of  war  ;  Llllustre 
Docteur  Mathe'us,  their  first  success,  happily  illus- 
trates the  former  genre  ;  any  one  of  the  half  dozen 
tales  making  up  the  National  Novel  series  may  be 
taken  to  represent  the  latter.  Both  veins  turned 
out  to  be  gold  mines,  so  rich  were  they  in  the  free- 
milling  ore  of  popular  favour.  Such  stories  as 
UAmi  Fritz  and  The  Brigadier  Frederick  are 
types  of  the  two  kinds  of  fiction  which  panned  out 
most  richly  also  for  the  world.  In  the  idyl  dealing 
with  homely  provincial  life — the  life  of  their  home 
province — these  authors  are,  of  a  truth,  masters. 
The  story  is  naught,  the  way  of  telling  it,  all  that 
breeds  atmosphere  and  innuendo,  is  everything.  In 
LAmi  Fritz  the  plot  may  be  told  in  a  sentence  : 
'tis  the  wooing  and  winning  of  a  country  lass, 
daughter  of  a  farmer,  by  a  well-to-do  jovial  bache- 

vii 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

lor  of  middle  age  in  a  small  town;  votlk  tout; 
yet  the  tale  makes  not  only  delicious  reading,  it 
leaves  a  permanent  impression  of  pleasure — one  is 
fain  to  re-read  it.  It  is  rich  in  human  nature,  in  a 
comfortable  sense  of  the  good  things  of  the  earth ; 
food  and  drink,  soft  beds,  one's  seat  at  the  tavern, 
spring  sunlight,  and  the  sound  of  a  fiddle  playing 
dance  tunes  at  the  fair  :  and,  on  a  higher  plane,  of 
the  genial  joys  of  comradeship  and  the  stanch  be- 
lief in  one's  native  land.  When  the  subtler  pas- 
sion of  love  comes  in  upon  this  simple  pastoral 
scene,  the  gradual  discovery  of  Friend  Fritz  that 
the  sentiment  he  has  always  ridiculed  has  him  at 
last  in  its  clutch,  is  portrayed  with  a  sly  unction,  a 
kindly  humour  overlying  an  unmistakable  tender- 
ness of  heart,  which  give  the  tale  great  charm. 
Sweetness  and  soundness  are  fundamentals  of  such 
literature. 

This  tale  is  a  type  of  them  all,  though  de- 
servedly the  best  liked.  Love  of  nature  and  of 
human  nature,  a  knowledge  of  the  little,  signifi- 
cant things  that  make  up  life,  an  exquisite  realism 
along  with  a  sort  of  temperamental  optimism 
which  assumes  good  of  men  and  women — these 
blend  in  the  provincial  stories  in  such  a  way  that 
one's  sense  of  art  is  charmed  while  in  no  less  de- 
gree one's  sense   of   life  is  quickened  and  com- 

viii 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

forted.  Erckmann-Chatrian  introduced  to  French 
readers  the  genuine  Alsatian,  not  the  puppet  of 
the  vaudeville  stage.  Their  books  are,  among 
other  things,  historical  documents.  From  their 
sketches  and  tales  better  than  in  any  other  way- 
one  can  gain  an  understanding  of  the  present  Ger- 
man provinces  of  Alsace  and  Lorraine  during  a 
period  stretching  from  the  Revolution  to  and  after 
the  Franco-Prussian  war.  The  Alsatian  in  their 
hands  is  seen  distinctly  as  one  of  the  most  inter- 
esting of  Gallic  provincial  types. 

The  attitude  of  Dr.  Math^us,  that  charming 
physician  savant,  who  is  in  love  with  science,  with 
the  great  world  of  scholarship  and  literary  fame, 
and  so  is  fain  to  leave  his  simple  countryside  in 
quest  of  renown — in  his  final  return  to  his  home  as, 
after  all,  the  best  spot  on  earth,  typifies  the  teach- 
ing of  these  authors  in  all  their  works.  The  tale  is 
a  sort  of  allegory,  veiling  a  sermon  on  the  value  of 
the  "fireside  clime"  of  home  hearths  and  hearts. 
Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  these  writers  culti- 
vated the  short  story  or  tale  with  vigour  and  suc- 
cess; The  Dean's  Watch,  printed  in  the  present 
volume,  is  an  excellent  example  of  the  genre. 
Erckmann-Chatrian,  especially  in  the  earlier  years 
of  their  conjoined  labour,  wrote  numerous  pieces 
of  short  fiction  which  abounded  in  gruesome  ad- 

ix 


Erckmann-Chatrian 

venture  and  situations  more  or  less  startling — 
witness  the  Heidelberg  murder  story.  They  pos- 
sessed a  considerable  talent  for  the  detective  fic- 
tion brought  to  a  fine  art  by  Poe  and  worthily 
carried  on  in  our  day  by  Conan  Doyle.  Yet 
even  here  the  work  has  a  higher  value — perhaps 
the  highest — for  the  thoughiul  reader  in  that  it 
affords  a  faithful  transcript  of  German  life  in 
time  gone  by ;  the  authors,  although  so  circum- 
scribed in  space,  are  in  some  sort  historians  of 
piquant  social  conditions.  It  is  commonly  said 
that  your  true  short-story  writer  is  not  a  novel- 
ist, nor  the  other  way  about.  But  The  Dearis 
Watch,  and  a  dozen  other  tales  that  could  be 
named,  are  little  master-pieces  not  to  be  omitted 
in  any  just,  comprehensive  survey  of  these  fecund 
authors. 

The  National  Novels  differ  from  these  simpler 
tales  in  more  than  theme  and  the  fuller  body  and 
greater  variety  they  possess ;  the  authors'  aim  in 
the  series  sets  the  books  apart  from  the  other 
stories.  This  group  is  made  up  of  tales  that  fairly 
may  be  called  "purpose  fiction,"  in  the  present 
cant.  Erckmann-Chatrian  agree  to  hate  war  and 
to  justify  their  hate  by  writing  a  succession  of 
books  portraying  its  horrors,  always  from  the  dis- 
advantage-point of  actual  humble  participants  and 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

onlookers,  so  that  the  plea  shall  appear  to  be  at 
once  fairly  made  and  yet  be  overwhelming  in 
effect.  Of  the  result,  surely  it  may  be  said  of  the 
National  Novels  that  if  they  are  not  magnificent, 
they  are  war — war  stript  of  its  glory,  reduced  to 
the  one  grim  denominator  of  human  misery. 

The  successive  national  struggles  of  France 
towards  that  peaceful  Republicanism  which  has 
now  endured  long  enough  to  induce  the  outside 
world  into  a  belief  that  this  volatile,  fiery  people 
will  never  revert  to  any  form  of  monarchy,  are 
sketched  so  graphically  as  to  give  a  clear  compre- 
hension of  their  history.  Nowhere  is  the  artistry 
of  the  authors  better  exhibited  than  in  the  skill 
with  which,  by  placing  their  own  position  in  the 
mouths  of  others  and  by  means  of  their  remark- 
able power  in  characterization,  they  rob  special 
pleading  of  that  didacticism  which  is  so  deadly 
an  enemy  of  good  fiction.  To  secure  an  effect 
of  verisimilitude  no  method  of  story -telling  is 
perhaps  so  useful  as  that  in  which  one  of  the 
characters  speaks  in  proper  person.  What  the 
author  loses  in  omniscience,  he  more  than  gains 
in  the  impression  of  reality.  This  method  is 
admirable  in  the  hands  of  Erckmann-Chatrian, 
who  consistently  use  it  in  their  fiction.  Do  the 
writers  of  any  other  nation,  one  is  tempted  to 

xi 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

query,  offer  such  frequent  examples  of  good  taste 
in  this  avoidance  of  the  too  didactic  as  do  the 
French  ?  In  some  English  hands  so  strenuous  an 
attempt  would  have  seemed  heavily  intolerable. 
Here  one  forgets  all  but  the  naturalness  of  word 
and  action  in  the  characters ;  and  the  lesson  sinks 
the  deeper  into  the  mind. 

In  justice  both  to  our  authors  and  the  present- 
day  temper,  it  may  be  declared  that  the  Twentieth 
Century  is  likely  to  be  more  sympathetic  to  their 
particular  thesis  than  was  their  own  time.  There 
is  a  popular  treatment  of  war  which  bedecks  it  in 
a  sort  of  stage  tinsel,  to  the  hiding  of  its  gaunt 
figure  and  cadaverous  face.  Some  of  Scott's  ro- 
mances are  of  this  order.  Zola,  with  his  epic 
sweep  in  Le  Dibdcle,  does  not  disguise  the  horrors 
of  the  Franco-Prussian  struggle.  Yet  epic  it  is, 
and  in  a  sense,  romantic ;  handled  by  a  poet 
whose  imagination  is  aroused  by  the  magnitude 
and  movement  of  his  theme.  Erckmann-Chatrian 
set  themselves  squarely  against  this  conception ; 
they  reduce  the  splendid  trappings  and  elan  of  bat- 
tle to  its  true  hideousness. 

In  order  to  depict  the  inevitable,  wretched 
results  of  the  killing  of  men  for  purposes  of 
political  ambition,  or  national  aggrandizement, 
Erckmann-Chatrian,  as  in  their  provincial  idyls, 

xii 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

cling  steadily  to  the  position  of  the  average  man, 
who  cannot  for  the  life  of  him  see  the  use  of  leav- 
ing all  that  is  pleasant  and  dear,  of  fighting,  march- 
ing, sickening,  and  dying  for  the  sake  of  a  cause 
he  does  not  understand  or  believe  in,  as  the  slave 
of  men  whom  he  perhaps  despises.  Joseph  Berta, 
the  lame  conscript,  the  shrewd,  kindly  Jew  Ma- 
thieu,  the  common-sense  miller  Christian  Weber, 
protagonists  in  three  well-known  stories,  each  dis- 
tinct from  the  other,  are  all  alike  in  their  prefer- 
ence for  peace  over  war,  for  the  joy  of  home  and 
the  quiet  prosecution  of  their  respective  affairs, 
instead  of  the  dubious  pleasures  of  siege  and  cam- 
paign. 

There  is  a  superbly  bourgeois  flavour  to  it  all. 
Yet  one  feels  its  force,  its  sound  humanity.  The 
republicanism  of  these  writers  is  of  the  broadest 
kind.  They  hate  Bonaparte  or  Bourbon,  because 
in  their  belief  either  house  stands  for  tyranny  and 
corruption  ;  while  Napoleon  is  their  special  detes- 
tation, the  later  Empire  is  vigorously  assailed  be- 
cause it,  too,  is  opposed  to  the  interests  of  the 
people.  Napoleon  III.,  whom  in  high  satiric 
scorn  they  pillory  as  "The  Honest  Man,"  comes 
in  for  savage  condemnation,  since  he  again  brings 
woe  upon  the  working  folk,  in  pursuit  of  his  own 
selfish  ends.     And  underneath  all,  like  a  ground- 

xiii 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

swell  can  be  felt  a  deep  and  genuine,  if  homely, 
patriotism. 

Human  nature,  as  it  is  witnessed  in  the  pages 
of  Erckmann-Chatrian,  is  not  hard  to  decipher. 
It  lacks  the  subtlety  of  the  modern  psychologue, 
miscalled  a  novelist.  Humanity  for  them  is  made 
up  of  two  great  contrasted  elements — the  people 
and  the  enemies  of  the  people ;  the  latter  made 
up  of  kings,  politicians,  government  leaders,  and 
the  general  world  of  bureaucracy,  who  fleece  the 
former,  "that  vast  flock  which  they  were  always 
accustomed  to  shear,  and  which  they  call  the 
people."  But  the  people  themselves,  how  veri- 
table and  charming  they  are  !  Not  a  whit  are 
they  idealized ;  the  fictional  folk  of  these  writers 
are  always  recognisable  ;  they  give  us  that  pleasure 
of  recognition  which  Mr.  James  points  out  as  one 
of  the  principal  virtues  of  modern  novel-making. 
The  title  of  one  of  the  well-known  books,  The 
History  of  a  Man  of  the  People^  might  almost 
stand  as  a  description  of  their  complete  works. 
There  is  no  sentimentalizing  of  average  humanity  ; 
none  of  the  Auerbach  or  George  Sand  prettifica- 
tion  of  country  life.  En,kmann-Chatrian  are  as 
truthful  as  a  later  realist  like  Thomas  Hardy.  The 
family  life  in  The  Brigadier  Frederick  is  almost 
lyrically   set   forth,  until   it   seems,  mayhap,  too 

xiv 


Erckmann-Chatrian 

good  for  human  nature's  daily  food ;  but  similar 
scenes  in  other  stories  have  a  Dutch-like  fidelity 
in  their  transcripts  of  the  coarser,  less  lovely 
human  traits ;  recall  the  wife  and  daughter  of 
Weber,  for  example,  or  the  well-nigh  craven  fear 
of  Joseph  Berta  in  The  Plebiscite,  who  seems  half 
a  poltroon  until  he  is  seasoned  in  a  Napoleonic 
campaign  ;  the  psychologic  treatment  here  sug- 
gesting Stephen  Crane's  The  Red  Badge  of  Cour- 
age.  The  blend  of  grim  realism  and  heroic 
patriotism  in  the  figure  of  the  old  sergeant  in 
The  Plebiscite  is  a  fine  illustration  of  that  truth 
to  both  the  shell  and  kernel  of  life  which  Erck- 
mann-Chatrian maintain  throughout  their  work. 

On  the  whole,  then,  it  is  a  comfortable,  en- 
heartening  conception  of  Man  they  present.  Poor 
theologians  they  would  make  ;  men  are  by  nature 
good  and  kind  ;  only  warped  by  cruel  misuse  and 
bad  masters,  as  in  war.  "  Ah,  it  is  a  great  joy  to 
love  and  to  be  loved,  the  only  one  joy  of  life," 
exclaims  the  Jew  Mathieu  in  The  Blockade.  This 
simple  yet  sufficient  creed  pervades  their  thought. 
Again  and  again  is  it  declared  that  whatever  the 
apparent  evil,  so  that  the  faithful-hearted  and  de- 
vout of  the  world,  like  Father  Frederick,  lose 
courage  for  the  moment,  the  fault  is  with  men 
upon  earth,  not  in  heaven.     High  over  all,  God 

xv 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

reigns.  A  spirit  of  kindliness,  quiet,  unheroic, 
but  deep  and  tender,  enswathes  the  more  serious 
part  of  these  novels  like  an  atmosphere  ;  and  if  the 
mood  shifts  to  indignation,  it  is  the  righteous  in- 
dignation of  the  good  in  the  face  of  that  which  is 
wrong  and  evil.  And  these  better  human  attri- 
butes are  most  commonly  found  in  the  provinces ; 
the  city,  as  a  rule,  spells  sin.  The  touch  of  mother 
earth  brings  purity  and  strength.  "  La  mauvaise 
race  qui  trompe,"  declares  the  Brigadier  Frederick, 
"  n'existe  pas  au  pays ;  elb  est  toujours  venue 
d'ailleurs."  One  smiles  at  this,  but  it  offends  not 
nor  seems  absurd.     Its  very  prejudice  is  lovable. 

Perhaps  none  of  the  stories  make  so  moving 
an  appeal  against  war  as  The  Brigadier  Frederick. 
Its  sadness  is  the  most  heartfelt,  its  realism  the 
most  truthful,  and  hence  effective.  Nor  in  any 
other  book  of  the  War  Series  does  the  French 
character  shine  more  clearly  in  its  typical  virtues. 
Family  love  and  faith,  camaraderie,  humble  de- 
voutness  in  religion,  and  earnest  patriotism  are 
constantly  made  manifest  in  this  fine  tale.  In- 
stead of  conducting  their  hero  through  the  spec- 
tacular scenes  of  military  campaigns,  the  authors 
depict  only  the  stay-at-home  aspects  of  war,  which 
because  of  their  lack  of  strut  and  epic  colour  are, 
as  a  rule,  overlooked,  and  which  yet  illustrate  far 

xvi 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

better  than  the  most  Zolaesque  details  the  wretched 
milieu  and  after  effects  of  a  great  national  strug- 
gle. Frederick,  the  old  guard  of  the  Alsatian 
forest  domains,  loses  in  turn  his  post,  his  son-in- 
law,  wife,  and  daughter,  and  at  last  his  native 
land ;  and  through  all  his  misery  remains  proudly  a 
Frenchman,  who  refuses  to  declare  allegiance  to 
the  German  invaders ;  and,  in  being  true  to  his 
convictions,  furnishes  a  noble  example  of  a  man 
who,  by  the  moral  test,  rises  superior  to  any 
fate,  his  head  being 

"  bloody  but  unbowed." 

Again,  sad  as  the  story  is,  it  differs  from  too 
much  of  the  tragedy  of  current  literature  ;  it  is  sad 
for  the  sake  of  a  purpose,  not  for  sadness'  sake. 
Alleviation  is  offered  the  reader  from  the  begin- 
ning, in  that  he  knows  that  Frederick  himself  has 
survived  all  his  woes,  since  he  is  telling  his  tale  to 
a  friend  in  after  years.  These  qualities  make  the 
work  wholesome  and  beautiful,  sound  both  for  art 
and  life. 

Erckmann-Chatrian  draw  strength  from  moth- 
er-soil. Their  stories  are  laid  in  Alsace-Lorraine, 
or  at  least  it  is  that  debatable  land  whence  the 
characters  go  only  to  return  for  the  peaceful  de- 
nouement, which  these  authors,  in  the  good  old- 
fashioned  style,  like  to  offer  their  readers.     The 

xvii 


Erckmann-Chatrian 

popularity  of  such  writers  brings  us  back,  happily, 
to  that  untechnical  valuation  of  literature  which 
insists,  first  of  all,  in  regarding  it  as  an  exposition 
of  human  experience.  Their  books  bear  transla- 
tion especially  well  because  there  is  something 
in  them  besides  incommunicable  flavours  of  style, 
though  style  is  not  wanting;  namely,  vital  folk, 
vivid  scenes,  significant  happenings.  Theirs  is 
the  misleading  simplicity  of  method  and  manner 
which  hides  technique  of  a  rare  and  admirable 
kind.  Allowing  for  all  exaggeration  for  altered 
ideals  in  fiction,  and  for  the  wanjng  of  interest  in 
the  historical  circumstances  which  they  portray, 
there  remain  such  elements  of  permanent  appeal 
as  to  give  their  books  far  more  than  a  transient 
worth. 

For  more  than  forty  years,  Erckmann-Chat- 
rian wrote  as  one  man ;  their  collaboration  was, 
in  effect,  a  chemical  union.  No  example  in  liter- 
ature better  illustrates  the  possibility  of  the  mer- 
ging of  individualities  for  the  purposes  of  artistic 
unity.  The  double  work  of  the  English  Besant 
and  Rice  is  by  no  means  so  important  nor  do  they 
stand  and  fall  together  in  the  same  sense ;  much 
of  Besant's  typical  fiction  being  produced  after 
his  partner's  death.  In  the  case  of  the  most  famed 
collaboration  of  older  days,  that  of  the  dramatists 

xviii 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  the  union  was  more  inti- 
mate. But  the  early  death  of  Beaumont,  the  con- 
sideration that  he  wrote  less  than  half  the  plays 
conventionally  attributed  to  their  joint  authorship, 
and  the  additional  consideration  that  some  of  the 
best  and  most  enjoyable  dramas  associated  with 
these  great  names — The  Loyal  Subject,  to  mention 
but  one — are  unquestionably  of  Fletcher's  sole 
composition,  make  the  Beaumont-Fletcher  alli- 
ance not  so  perfect  an  example  of  literary  collabo- 
ration as  is  offered  by  Erckmann-Chatrian.  When 
Chatrian  died  in  1890,  it  was  as  if,  for  literary 
purposes,  both  died.  Their  work  had  a  unity  tes- 
tifying to  a  remarkable  if  not  unique  congeniality 
in  temperament,  view  and  aim,  as  well  as  to  a 
fraternal  unity  which — alas  !  the  irony  of  all  human 
friendships — was  dispelled  when  their  quarrel,  just 
before  the  death  of  Chatrian,  put  an  end  to  an 
association  so  fruitful  and  famous. 

From  the  very  nature  of  fiction  in  contrast 
with  drama,  it  would  seem  as  if  collaboration  in 
stage  literature  were  more  likely  to  yield  happy 
results  than  in  the  case  of  the  novel.  Here,  how- 
ever, is  an  example  setting  aside  a  priori  reason- 
ing ;  seemingly  "  helpless  each  without  the  other," 
the  final  breach  in  their  personal  relations  would 
seem  to  have  written  Finis  to  their  literary  en- 

xix 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

deavour.  Yet  Erckmann  survived  for  nearly  a  dec- 
ade and  wrote  military  stories,  which  in  tone  and 
temper  carried  on  the  traditions  of  the  two  men. 
But  we  may  easily  detect  in  this  last  effort  the 
penalty  of  their  literary  severance  :  the  loss  of  the 
craftsmanship  of  Chatrian  was  a  loss  indeed.  Nor 
is  this  subjective  guess-work  of  the  critic ;  Erck- 
mann himself  described  nearly  twenty  years  ago 
the  respective  parts  played  by  the  two  in  their 
literary  work.  He  declared  that  after  a  story  had 
been  blocked  out  and  thoroughly  talked  over  be- 
tween them,  he  did  all  the  actual  composition. 
Then  was  it  Chatrian's  business  to  point  out  faults, 
to  suggest,  here  a  change  in  perspective,  there 
less  emphasis  upon  a  subsidiary  character,  or  here 
again,  a  better  handling  of  proportion — in  short, 
to  do  all  the  retouching  that  looks  to  artistry. 
And  Erckmann  goes  on  to  testify  in  good  set 
terms  how  necessary  his  collaborator  was  to  the 
final  perfected  form  of  the  story ;  how  much  it 
must  have  suffered  without  his  sense  of  technique. 
It  would  appear  from  this  that  the  senior  member 
of  the  firm  did  what  is  commonly  called  the  cre- 
ative work  of  composition,  the  junior  filling  the 
r61e  of  critic.  From  France  one  hears  that  Erck- 
mann was  very  German  in  taste  and  sympathy 
{niirabile  dictu  /  in  view  of  so  much  of  what  he 

xx 


Erckmann— Chatrian 

wrote) ;  Chatrian,  French  to  the  core,  a  man  who  in- 
sisted on  residing  on  the  French  side  of  the  national 
line,  who  reared  his  sons  to  be  French  soldiers; 
whereas  Erckmann  in  later  years  hobnobbed  with 
the  Germans,  members  of  his  family,  in  fact,  inter- 
marrying with  his  ancient  enemies. 

Indeed,  this  last  act  of  their  personal  history 
has  its  disillusionment.  But  after  all,  men  shall 
be  judged  in  their  works.  Whatever  their  private 
quarrellings,  their  respective  parts  in  literary  la- 
bour, their  attributes  or  national  leanings,  the  world, 
justly  caring  most  in  the  long  run  for  the  fiction 
they  wrote,  will  continue  to  think  of  them  as 
provincial  patriots,  lovers  of  their  country,  and 
Frenchmen  of  the  French,  not  only  in  the  tongue 
they  used,  but  in  those  deep-lying  characteristics 
and  qualities  which  make  their  production  wor- 
thily Gallic  in  the  nobler  implication  of  the  word. 

Richard  Burton. 


XXI 


BIOGRAPHICAL    NOTE 


The  celebrated  friends  who  collaborated  for  fifty 
years  under  the  title  of  Erckmann-Chatrian 
were  natives  of  the  department  of  the  Meurthe,  in 
Alsace-Lorraine.  Emile  Erckmann  was  born  at 
Phalsbourg  (now  Pfalzburg),  on  the  20th  of  May, 
1822.  His  father  was  a  bookseller ;  his  mother 
he  lost  early.  He  was  educated  at  the  grammar 
school  of  Phalsbourg,  and  was  a  boarder  there, 
growing  up  an  intractable  and  idle  boy.  At  the 
age  of  twenty  Erckmann  went  up  to  Paris  to  study 
law,  but  he  was  inattentive  to  his  work,  and  posi- 
tively took  fifteen  years  to  pass  the  necessary  exam- 
inations ;  having  done  so,  he  made  no  further  use 
of  his  profession.  When  he  was  twenty-five  he 
suffered  from  a  serious  illness,  and  during  his  con- 
valescence, in  Alsace,  he  turned  his  attention  to  lit- 
erature. At  this  moment  there  had  arrived  in 
Phalsbourg,  as  an  usher  in  the  grammar  school,  a 
young  Alsatian,  Alexandre  Chatrian,  of  Ital- 
ian descent,  who  was  born  at  Soldatenthal,  near 

xxiii 


Biographical  Note 

Abreschwiller,  on  the  18th  of December ;  1826,  and 
who  was  destined  for  the  trade  of  glass-worker. 
He  had  been  sent  in  1844,  as  an  apprentice,  to  the 
glass-works  in  Belgium,  but  had,  in  opposition  to 
the  wish  of  his  parents,  determined  to  return  and 
to  be  a  schoolmaster  in  France. 

Erckmann  and  Chatrian  now  met,  and  in' 
st ant ly  felt  irresistibly  drawn  to  one  another.  From 
this  time  until  near  the  end  of  their  careers  their 
names  were  melted  indissolubly  into  one.  In  1848 
a  local  newspaper,  "  Le  DSmocrate  du  Rhin" 
opened  its  columns  to  their  contributions,  and  they 
began  to  publish  novels.-  Their  first  great  success 
was  "  Llllustre  Docteur  Mathdus"  in  1859,  which 
appeared  originally  in  the  "  Revue  Nouvelle?  and 
which  exactly  gauged  the  taste  of  the  general  pub- 
lie.  This  was  followed  by  "  Contes  Fantastiques  " 
and"Contes  de  la  Montagne,"  in  i860  ;  by  "Maitre 
Daniel  Rock"  in  186 1 ;  by  "Contes  des  Bords  du 
Rhin"  and  "Le  Fou  Ydgof"  in  1862  ;  "Le  Joueur 
de  Clarinette"  in  186 j;  and  in  1864,  which  was  per- 
haps the  culminating  year  of  the  talent  of  Erck* 
mann-Chatrian,  by  "Madame  Thirese"  "VAmi 
Fritz"  and  " LHistoire  dun  Conscrit  de  1813" 
These,  and  innumerable  stories  which  followed 
them,  dealt  almost  entirely  with  scenes  of  country 
life  in  Alsace  and  the  neighbouring  German  Palat- 

xxiv 


Biographical  Note 

inate.  The  authors  adopted  a  strong  Chauvinist 
bias,  and  at  the  time  of  the  Franco-German  War 
their  sympathies  were  violently  enlisted  on  the  side 
of  France. 

In  1872  Erckmann*Chatrian  published  a  po> 
litical  novel  which  enjoyed  an  immense  success, 
" Histoire  du  Plebiscite" ;  in  1873,  " Les  Deux 
Freres"  ;  and  they  concluded  in  many  volumes  their 
long  romance  "Histoire  d'un  Paysan."  Two  of 
the  latest  of  their  really  striking  romances  were 
"Les  Vieux  de  la  Vie  lie"  1882,  and  "  Les  Rant- 
zau,"  1884.  During  this  period \  however,  their 
great  vogue  was  the  theatre,  where  in  1869  they 
produced  "Le  fuif  Polonais"  and  in  1877  "LAmi 
Fritz"  two  of  the  most  successful  romantic  plays 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  destined  to  be  popular  in 
all  parts  of  the  world.  After  the  war  of  1870-71 
Erckmann  lived  at  Phalsbourg,  which  was  pres- 
ently annexed  to  German  Lothringen,  and  he  be- 
came a  German  citizen;  Chatrian  continued  to 
reside  in  Paris,  and  remained  a  Frenchman.  For 
a  long  time  the  friends  continued  to  collaborate  on 
the  old  terms  of  intimacy,  though  at  a  distance 
from  one  another,  but  a  quarrel  finally  separated 
them,  on  a  vulgar  matter  of  interest.  Erckmann 
claimed,  and  Chatrian  refused,  author  s  rights  on 
those  plays  which  bore  the  name  of  both  writers, 

XXV 


Biographical  Note 

altlwugh  Chatrian  had  composed  them  unaided. 
The  rupture  became  complete  in  1889,  when  the  old 
friends  parted  as  bitter  enemies.  Chatrian  died  a 
year  later \  on  the  4th  of  September,  1890,  from  a 
stroke  of  apoplexy \  at  Villemomble,  near  Paris. 
Erckmann  left  Phalsbourg,  and  settled  at  Luni- 
ville,  where  he  died  on  the  14th  of  March,  1899. 
The  temperament  of  Erckmann  was  phlegmatic 
and  melancholy  ;  that  of  Chatrian  impetuous  and 
fiery.  They  were  strongly  opposed  to  the  theo- 
ries of  the  realists,  which  assailed  them  in  their 
advancing  age,  and  they  stated  their  own  jyrin- 
ciples  of  literary  composition  in  "  Quelques  mots 
sur  V esprit  humain,"  1880,  and  its  continuation 
"L'Art  et  les  Grands  Ide'alistes"  1885.  For  a 
long  time  their  popularity  was  unequalled  by  that 
of  any  other  French  novelist,  largely  because  their 
lively  writings  were  pre-eminently  suited  to  family 
reading.  But  they  never  achieved  an  equal  prom- 
inence in  purely  literary  estimation. 

E.  G. 


XXVI 


CONTENTS 


f  PAGES 

Erckmann-Chatrian v-xxi 

Richard  Burton 

Lives  of  Erckmann  and  Chatrian     .     .     .  xxiii-xxvi 

Edmund  Gosse 

Brigadier  Frederick 1-228 

The  Dean's  Watch 1-39 

The  Portraits  of  Erckmann  and  Chatrian .  41-50 

Octave  Uzanne 


XXV11 


BRIGADIER  FREDERICK 


I 

When  I  was  brigadier  forester  at  Steinbach, 
said  Father  Frederick  to  me,  and  when  I  was  the 
inspector  of  the  most  beautiful  forest  district  in 
all  the  department  of  Saverne,  I  had  a  pretty  cot- 
tage, shaded  by  trees,  the  garden  and  orchard 
behind  filled  with  apple  trees,  plum  trees,  and 
pear  trees,  covered  with  fruit  in  the  autumn  ;  with 
that  four  acres  of  meadow  land  along  the  bank  of 
the  river ;  when  the  grandmother,  Anne,  in  spite 
of  her  eighty  years,  still  spun  behind  the  stove, 
and  was  able  to  help  about  the  house ;  when  my 
wife  and  daughter  kept  house  and  superintended 
the  stables  and  the  cultivation  of  our  land,  and 
when  weeks,  months,  and  years  passed  in  their 
tranquility  like  a  single  day.  If  at  that  time  any 
one  had  said  to  me,  "  See  here,  Brigadier  Fred- 
erick, look  at  this  great  valley  of  Alsace,  that 
extends  to  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  ;  its  hundreds 
of  villages,  surrounded  by  harvests  of  all  kinds : 

3 

B — Vol.  ii 


Brigadier  Frederick 

tobacco,  hops,  madder,  hemp,  flax,  wheat,  barley 
and  oats,  over  which  rushes  the  wind  as  over  the 
sea ;  those  high  factory  chimneys,  vomiting  clouds 
of  smoke  into  the  air ;  those  wind-mills  and  saw- 
mills ;  those  hills,  covered  with  vines ;  those  great 
forests  of  beech  and  fir  trees,  the  best  in  France 
for  ship-building ;  those  old  castles,  in  ruins  for 
centuries  past,  on  the  summits  of  the  mountains ; 
those  fortresses  of  Neuf-Brisach,  Schlestadt,  Phals- 
bourg,  Bitche,  that  defend  the  passes  of  the 
Vosges.  Look,  brigadier,  as  far  as  a  man's  eye 
can  reach  from  the  line  of  Wissembourg  to  Bel- 
fort.  Well,  in  a  few  years  all  that  will  belong  to 
the  Prussians ;  they  will  be  the  masters  of  all ; 
they  will  have  garrisons  everywhere ;  they  will 
levy  taxes ;  they  will  send  preceptors,  censors, 
foresters,  and  schoolmasters  into  all  the  villages, 
and  the  inhabitants  will  bend  their  backs ;  they 
will  go  through  the  military  drill  in  the  German 
ranks,  commanded  by  the  feldwebel*  of  the  Em- 
peror William."  If  any  one  had  told  me  that,  I 
would  have  thought  the  man  was  mad,  and,  even 
in  my  indignation,  I  should  have  been  very  likely 
to  have  given  him  a  backhander  across  the  face. 

He  would  only  have  told  the  truth,  however, 
and  he  would  not  even  have  said  enough,  for  we 

♦Sergeant. 

4 


Brigadier  Frederick 

have  seen  many  other  things ;  and  the  most  ter- 
rible thing  of  all  for  me,  who  had  never  quitted 
the  mountain,  is  to  see  myself,  at  my  old  age,  in 
this  garret,  from  which  I  can  see  only  the  tiles 
and  chimney-pots ;  alone,  abandoned  by  Heaven 
and  earth,  and  thinking  day  and  night  of  that 
frightful  story. 

Yes,  George,  the  most  terrible  thing  is  to 
think  !  Foxes  and  wolves  that  are  wounded  lick 
themselves  and  get  well.  Kids  and  hares  that  are 
hurt  either  die  at  once,  or  else  hide  in  a  thicket 
and  end  by  recovering.  When  a  dog's  puppies 
are  taken  away,  the  poor  beast  pines  for  a  few 
days ;  then  she  forgets,  and  all  is  forgotten.  But 
we  men  cannot  forget,  and  as  time  goes  on  we 
realize  our  misery  more  and  more,  and  we  see 
many  sad  things  that  we  had  not  felt  at  first.  In- 
justice, bad  faith,  selfishness,  all  grow  up  before 
our  eyes  like  thorns  and  briers. 

However,  since  you  desire  to  know  how  I  hap- 
pened to  get  into  this  hovel  in  the  heart  of  La 
Villette,  and  the  way  in  which  I  have  passed  my 
life  up  to  the  present  time,  I  will  not  refuse  to 
answer  you.  You  can  question  many  other  people 
beside  myself ;  persons  of  different  occupations — 
workmen,  peasants  emigrated  from  down  yonder ; 
all  the  tumble-down  houses  of  La  Villette  and  La 

5 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Chapelle  are  filled  with  them.  I  have  heard  that 
more  than  two  hundred  thousand  hav  left.  It  is 
possible.  When  I  quitted  the  country  the  roads 
were  already  overcrowded. 

But  you  know  all  about  these  things  as  well  as 
I  do  ;  so  I  will  tell  about  what  concerns  me  alone, 
beginning  at  the  beginning.  That  will  be  the 
simplest  way. 

When  your  grandfather,  M.  Munsch,  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Tribunal,  obtained  promotion,  in  1865, 
and  left  for  Brittany,  I  was  very  glad  of  it,  in  one 
way,  for  he  deserved  to  be  promoted ;  I  have 
never  seen  a  better  or  more  learned  man.  Saverne 
was  not  the  place  for  him.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  was  very  sorry  for  it.  My  father,  the 
former  forester  of  Dosenheim,  had  never  spoken 
to  me  of  President  Munsch  but  with  the  greatest 
respect,  repeating  to  me,  over  and  over  again,  that 
he  was  our  benefactor,  that  he  had  always  liked 
our  family.  I  myself  owed  to  him  my  good  post 
at  Steinbach,  and  it  was  also  on  his  recommenda- 
tion that  I  got  my  wife,  Catherine  Burat,  the  only 
daughter  of  the  former  brigadier,  Martin  Burat. 

After  that,  you  can  readily  believe  that,  in 
going  to  make  my  report  at  Saverne,  it  was  always 
with  emotion  that  I  gazed  upon  that  good  house, 
where,  for  twenty  years,  I  had  been  so  kindly  re- 

6 


Brigadier  Frederick 

ceived,  and  I  regretted  that  noble  man ;  it  made 
my  heart  very  sad.  And,  naturally,  we  missed 
very  much,  no  longer  having  you  to  spend  the 
vacations  with  us.  We  were  so  used  to  having 
you,  that,  long  in  advance,  we  would  say :  "  The 
month  of  September  is  coming  round ;  little 
George  will  soon  be  here." 

My  wife  arranged  the  bed  upstairs ;  she  put 
lavender  in  the  well-bleached  sheets,  and  she 
washed  the  floor  and  window-panes.  I  prepared 
snares  for  the  thrushes  and  bait  of  all  kinds  for  the 
trout ;  I  repaired  the  tomtits'  hut  under  the  rocks ; 
I  tried  the  whistles  for  the  bird-calls,  and  made 
new  ones  with  lead  and  geese  bones ;  I  arranged 
everything  in  order  in  our  boxes — the  hooks,  the 
lines,  the  flies,  made  of  cock  feathers ;  laughing 
beforehand  at  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  rummage 
among  them,  and  of  hearing  you  say  :  "  See  here, 
Father  Frederick,  you  must  wake  me  up  to-mor- 
row morning  at  two  o'clock,  without  fail ;  we  will 
start  long  before  day  ! " 

I  knew  very  well  that  you  would  sleep  like  a 
top  till  I  should  come  to  shake  you  and  to  scold 
you  for  your  laziness ;  but  at  night,  before  going 
to  bed,  you  always  wanted  to  be  up  at  two  o'clock, 
or  even  at  midnight ;  that  amused  me  greatly. 

And  then  I  saw  you  in  the  hut,  keeping  so 

7 


Brigadier  Frederick 

still  while  I  whistled  on  the  bird-call  that  you 
scarcely  dared  to  breathe  ;  I  heard  you  trembling 
on  the  moss  when  the  jackdaws  and  thrushes  ar- 
rived, wheeling  under  the  trees  to  see  ;  I  heard 
you  whisper,  softly  :  "  There  they  are,  there  they 
are!" 

You  were  almost  beside  yourself  when  there 
came,  a  great  cloud  of  tomtits,  which  usually  hap- 
pened just  at  daybreak. 

Yes,  George,  all  these  things  rejoiced  my 
heart,  and  I  looked  forward  to  the  vacations  with 
as  much  impatience  perhaps  as  you  did.  Our  little 
Marie-Rose  also  rejoiced  in  the  thought  of  soon 
seeing  you  again  ;  she  hastened  to  plait  new  snares 
and  to  repair  the  meshes  of  the  nets  which  had  got 
broken  the  year  before.  But  then  all  was  over ; 
you  were  never  to  return,  and  we  knew  it  well. 

Two  or  three  times  that  poor  idiot  Calas,  who 
looked  after  our  cows  in  the  field,  seeing  afar  off 
on  the  other  slope  of  the  valley  some  persons  who 
were  on  their  way  to  Dosenheim,  came  running  in, 
crying,  with  his  mouth  open  as  far  as  his  ears, 
"  Here  he  is,  here  he  is !  It  is  he ;  I  recognise 
him  ;  he  has  his  bundle  under  his  arm  ! " 

And  Ragot  barked  at  the  heels  of  that  idiot. 
I  should  have  liked  to  have  knocked  them  both 
over,  for  we  had  learned  of  your  arrival  at  Rennes, 

8 


Brigadier  Frederick 

and  the  President  himself  had  written  that  you  re- 
gretted Steinbach  every  day.  I  was  in  a  bad 
enough  humour,  without  listening  to  such  cries. 

Often,  too,  my  wife  and  Marie-Rose,  while  ar- 
ranging the  fruit  on  the  garret  floor,  would  say  : 
"  What  fine  melting  pears,  what  good  gray  rennets ! 
Ah  !  if  George  returned,  he  would  roll  them  round 
from  morning  till  night.  He  would  do  nothing 
but  run  up  and  down  stairs."  And  then  they 
would  smile,  with  tears  in  their  eyes. 

And  how  often  I  myself,  returning  from  the 
bird-catching,  and  throwing  on  the  table  my 
bunches  of  tomtits,  have  I  not  cried  :  "  Look ! 
there  are  ten  or  twelve  dozen  of  them.  What  is 
the  good  of  them  now  the  boy  is  no  longer  here  ? 
Might  as  well  give  them  to  the  cat ;  for  my  part, 
I  despise  them." 

That  was  true,  George  ;  I  never  had  a  taste  for 
tomtits,  or  even  for  thrushes.  I  always  liked  bet- 
ter a  good  quarter  of  beef,  with  now  and  then  only 
a  little  bit  of  game,  by  way  of  change. 

Well,  it  is  thus  that  the  time  passed  just  after 
your  departure.  That  lasted  for  some  months,  and 
finally  our  ideas  took  another  course,  and  that  the 
more  because,  in  the  month  of  January,  1867,  a 
great  misfortune  happened  to  us. 


9 


Brigadier  Frederick 

II 

In  the  depth  of  the  winter,  while  all  the  roads 
and  the  mountain  paths  were  covered  with  snow, 
and  we  heard  every  night  the  branches  of  the 
beech  trees  breaking  like  glass  under  their  load  of 
ice,  to  the  right  and  left  of  the  house,  one  evening 
my  wife,  who,  since  the  commencement  of  the 
season,  had  gone  to  and  fro  looking  very  pale  and 
without  speaking,  said  to  me,  towards  six  o'clock, 
after  having  lighted  the  fire  in  the  fireplace,  "  Fred- 
erick, I  am  going  to  bed.  I  do  not  feel  well.  I 
am  cold." 

She  had  never  said  anything  like  that  before. 
She  was  a  woman  who  never  complained  and  who, 
during  her  youth,  had  looked  after  her  house  up 
to  the  very  day  before  her  confinements.  I  sus- 
pected nothing,  and  I  replied  to  her : 

"  Catherine,  do  not  put  yourself  out.  You 
work  too  hard  Go  and  rest.  Marie  Rose  will  do 
the  cooking." 

I  thought  "once  in  twenty  years  is  not  too 
much  ;  she  may  well  rest  herself  a  little." 

Marie-Rose  heated  a  jug  of  water  to  put  under 
her  feet,  and  we  took  our  supper  of  potatoes  and 
clotted  milk  as  tranquilly  as  usual.  We  were  not 
at   all    uneasy,   and   about   nine   o'clock,   having 

10 


Brigadier  Frederick 

smoked  my  pipe  near  the  stove,  I  was  about  to  go 
to  bed,  when,  on  coming  near  the  bed,  I  saw  my 
wife,  white  as  a  sheet,  and  with  her  eyes  wide 
open.     I  said  to  her, 

"  Helloa,  Catherine  ! " 

But  she  did  not  stir.  I  repeated  "  Catherine," 
and  shook  her  by  the  arm.     She  was  already  cold. 

The  courageous  woman  had  not  lain  down  till 
the  last  moment,  so  to  speak ;  she  had  lost  much 
blood  without  complaining.  I  was  a  widower. 
My  poor  Marie-Rose  no  longer  had  a  mother. 

That  crushed  me  terribly.  I  thought  I  should 
never  recover  from  the  blow. 

The  old  grandmother,  who  for  some  time  had 
scarcely  ever  stirred  from  her  arm-chair,  and  who 
seemed  always  in  a  dream,  awoke.  Marie-Rose 
uttered  cries  and  sobs  which  could  be  heard  out  of 
doors,  and  even  Calas,  the  poor  idiot,  stammered  : 

"  Oh,  if  I  had  only  died  instead  of  her ! " 

And  as  we  were  far  away  in  the  woods,  I  was 
forced  to  transport  my  poor  wife  to  bury  her,  to 
the  church  at  Dosenheim,  through  the  great  snows. 
We  went  in  a  line,  with  the  coffin  before  us  in  the 
cart.  Marie-Rose»wept  so  much  that  I  was  forced 
to  support  her  at  every  step.  Fortunately  the 
grandmother  did  not  come ;  she  sat  at  home  in 
her  arm-chair,  reciting  the  prayers  for  the  dead. 

ii 


Brigadier  Frederick 

We  did  not  return  that  evening  till  it  was  dark 
night.  And  now  the  mother  was  yonder  under 
the  snow,  with  the  old  Burat  family,  who  are  all  in 
the  cemetery  of  Dosenheim  behind  the  church ; 
she  was  there,  and  I  thought : 

"  What  will  become  of  the  house  ?  Frederick, 
you  will  never  marry  again  ;  you  have  had  a  good 
wife  and  who  knows  if  the  second  would  not  be 
the  worst  and  the  most  extravagant  in  the  country. 
You  will  never  take  another.  You  will  live  like 
that,  all  alone.  But  what  will  you  do  ?  Who  will 
take  care  of  everything  ?  Who  will  look  after  your 
interest  day  and  night  ?  The  grandmother  is  too 
old  and  the  girl  is  still  a  mere  child." 

I  was  miserable,  thinking  that  everything  would 
go  to  ruin  and  that  my  savings  of  so  many  years 
would  be  wasted  from  day  to  day. 

But  my  little  Marie- Rose  was  a  real  treasure,  a 
girl  full  of  courage  and  good  sense,  and  no  sooner 
was  my  wife  dead  than  she  put  herself  at  the  head 
of  our  affairs,  looking  after  the  fields,  the  cattle, 
and  the  household,  and  ruling  Calas  like  her 
mother.  The  poor  fellow  obeyed  her ;  he  under- 
stood in  his  simplicity  that  she  was  now  the  mis- 
tress and  that  she  had  the  right  to  speak  for  every- 
body. 

And  so  things  go  on  earth.  When  we  have 
12 


Brigadier  Frederick 

had  such  trials  we  think  that  nothing  worse  can 
happen  to  us,  but  all  that  was  merely  the  begin- 
ning, and  when  I  think  of  it,  it  seems  to  me  that 
our  greatest  happiness  would  have  been,  all  to 
have  died  together  upon  the  same  day. 


Ill 

Thus  all  our  joys,  all  our  satisfactions  passed 
away,  one  after  the  other.  The  old  house  to  which 
I  formerly  returned,  laughing  from  afar,  only  to 
see  its  little  windows  glittering  in  the  sun  and  its 
little  chimney  smoking  between  the  tops  of  the 
fir  trees,  was  then  sad  and  desolate.  The  winter 
appeared  very  long  to  us.  The  fire  which  sparkles 
so  joyously  on  the  hearth  when  the  white  flowers 
of  the  frost  cover  the  panes,  and  when  silence 
reigns  in  the  valley,  that  fire  which  I  had  so  often 
gazed  at  for  half  an  hour  at  a  time  while  smoking 
my  pipe,  thinking  of  a  thousand  things  that  passed 
through  my  head,  now  gave  me  none  but  melan- 
choly thoughts.  The  fagots  wept ;  poor  Ragot 
sought  in  every  corner,  he  wandered  up  stairs  and 
down  and  smelt  under  all  the  doors ;  Caias  wove 
baskets  in  silence,  the  oziers  piled  in  front  of  him ; 
grandmother  Anne  told  her  beads,  and  Marie- Rose, 

13 


Brigadier  Frederick 

very  pale  and  dressed  in  black,  came  and  went 
through  the  house,  watching  over  all  and  doing 
everything  without  noise  like  her  poor  mother. 
As  for  me,  I  said  nothing ;  when  death  has  entered 
anywhere  all  lamentations  that  one  makes  are  pure 
loss.     Yes,  that  winter  was  long  ! 

And  then  the  spring  came  as  in  other  years ; 
the  firs  and  beech  trees  put  forth  their  buds ;  the 
windows  were  opened  to  renew  the  air :  the  great 
pear  tree  before  the  door  became  covered  with 
white  flowers ;  all  the  birds  of  the  air  began  once 
more  to  sing,  to  chase  each  other,  and  to  build 
nests  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

I  also  returned  to  my  work,  accompanying  the 
chief  guard,  M.  Rameau,  in  his  circuits  in  order  to 
direct  the  wood  felling,  overlooking  the  works 
from  a  distance,  leaving  early  in  the  morning  and 
returning  late,  at  the  last  song  of  the  thrushes. 

My  grief  pursued  me  everywhere,  and  yet  I 
had  still  the  consolation  of  seeing  Marie-Rose  grow 
in  strength  and  beauty  in  a  truly  marvellous  way. 

It  is  not,  George,  because  I  was  her  father  that 
I  tell  you  this,  but  you  would  have  had  to  search 
for  a  long  time  from  Saverne  to  Lutzelstein  before 
finding  as  fresh-looking  a  young  girl  with  as  trim 
a  figure,  as  honest  an  air,  with  such  beautiful  blue 
eyes  and  such  magnificent  fair  hair.     And  how 

14 


Brigadier  Frederick 

well  she  understood  all  kinds  of  work,  whether  in 
the  house  or  out  of  doors !  Ah,  yes,  I  may  well 
say  it,  she  was  a  beautiful  creature,  gentle  and  yet 
strong. 

Often  coming  in  at  night  and  seeing  her  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  signing  to  me  that  she  had 
waited  supper  a  long  time  for  me,  then  running 
down  the  stairs  and  holding  out  to  me  her  fresh 
cheek,  I  have  often  thought : 

"  She  is  still  handsomer  than  her  mother  was  at 
the  same  age  ;  she  has  the  same  good  sense.  Don't 
lament  over  your  misfortunes,  Frederick,  for  many 
people  would  envy  your  lot  in  having  such  a  child, 
who  gives  you  so  much  satisfaction." 

One  thing  only  made  the  tears  come,  that  is 
when  I  thought  of  my  wife,  then  I  cried  to  my- 
self: 

"  Ah  !  if  Catherine  could  come  back  to  see 
her,  she  would  be  very  happy  ! " 

About  the  same  time  other  ideas  entered  my 
head ;  the  epoch  of  my  retirement  was  approach- 
ing, and  as  Marie-Rose  had  entered  her  seven- 
teenth year,  I  thought  of  finding  her  a  good  and 
nice  young  fellow  from  among  the  foresters,  in 
whose  house  I  could  tranquilly  end  my  days,  in 
the  midst  of  my  children  and  grandchildren,  and 
who,  taking  my  place,  would  respect  me  as  I  had 

i5 


Brigadier  Frederick 

respected  my  father-in-law  Burat,  when  succeed- 
ing him  twenty  years  before. 

I  thought  of  it ;  it  was  my  principal  idea,  and 
I  had  even  some  one  in  view,  a  tall  and  handsome 
young  man  from  Felsberg,  who  had  left  the  horse 
guards  three  or  four  years  before,  and  who  had 
just  been  appointed  forest  guard  at  Tomenthal, 
near  our  house.  His  name  was  Jean  Merlin,  and 
he  was  already  experienced  in  the  duties  of  a  for- 
ester, having  passed  his  apprenticeship  at  Eyis- 
heim,  in  Alsace. 

The  young  fellow  pleased  me  first  because  he 
had  a  good  character,  afterward  because  Marie- 
Rose  regarded  him  with  a  favourable  eye.  I  had 
remarked  that  she  always  blushed  a  little  when 
she  saw  him  enter  the  house  to  make  his  report, 
and  that  he  never  failed  to  appear  in  full  dress, 
carefully  shaved,  his  little  cap  with  its  hunting 
horn  badge,  adorned  with  an  oak  leaf  or  a  sprig  of 
heather,  which  sets  off  a  man  ;  and  that  his  voice, 
which  was  a  little  gruff,  became  very  gentle  in 
saying,  "  Good  day,  Mile.  Marie- Rose ;  I  hope 
you  are  quite  well  ?  What  beautiful  weather  we 
are  having — the  sun  is  shining  finely,"  etc.  He 
appeared  embarrassed ;  and  Marie- Rose  also  an- 
swered him  timidly.  It  was  very  clear  that  they 
loved   and   admired  each  other,  a  natural  thing 

16 


Brigadier  Frederick 

when  one  is  old  enough  to  get  married.  It  always 
has  been  and  always  will  be  so  ;  it  is  a  blessing  of 
Providence. 

Therefore  I  found  no  evil  in  it,  on  the  con- 
trary I  thought:  "When  he  asks  her  of  me  ac- 
cording to  custom,  we  will  see  about  it.  I  will 
say  neither  yes  nor  no  at  once  ;  one  must  not  have 
the  air  of  throwing  one's  self  at  people's  heads ; 
but  I  will,  and  by  yielding,  for  neither  must  one 
break  young  people's  hearts." 

Those  were  the  ideas  that  I  revolved  in  my 
head. 

Besides  which  the  young  man  was  of  good 
family  ;  he  had  his  uncle,  Daniel  Merlin,  who  was 
schoolmaster  at  Felsberg  ;  his  father  had  been  ser- 
geant in  a  regiment  of  infantry,  and  his  mother, 
Margredel,  though  she  lived  with  him  in  the  for- 
ester's house  at  Tomenthal,  possessed  at  Felsberg 
a  cottage,  a  garden,  and  four  or  five  acres  of  good 
land ;  one  could  not  desire  a  match  in  every  way 
more  advantageous. 

And  seeing  that  everything  seemed  to  go  ac- 
cording to  my  wishes,  almost  every  evening  when 
I  returned  from  my  circuits  through  the  woods,  in 
the  path  which  skirts  the  valley  of  Ddsenheim,  at 
the  moment  when  the  sun  is  setting,  when  the 
silence  spreads  itself  with  the  shadow  of  the  forest 

17 


Brigadier  Frederick 

over  the  great  meadows  of  La  Zinzelle — that  si- 
lence of  the  solitude,  scarcely  broken  by  the  mur- 
mur of  the  little  river — almost  every  evening, 
walking  thoughtfully  along,  I  pictured  to  myself 
the  peace  that  my  children  would  have  in  this 
corner  of  the  world,  their  pleasant  home,  the  birth 
of  little  beings  whom  we  would  carry  to  Ddsen- 
heim  to  have  them  baptized  in  the  old  church, 
and  other  similar  things,  which  touched  my  heart 
and  made  me  say  : 

"  Lord  God,  it  is  all  sure ;  these  things  will 
happen.  And  when  you  grow  old,  Frederick, 
very  old,  your  back  bent  by  age,  like  grandmother 
Anne,  and  your  head  quite  white,  you  will  pass 
away  quietly,  satisfied  with  years,  and  blessing  the 
young  brood.  And  long  after  you  are  gone,  that 
brave  Jean  Merlin,  with  Marie-Rose,  will  keep 
you  in  remembrance." 

In  picturing  all  this  to  myself,  I  halted  regu- 
larly on  the  path  above  the  forester  house  of  Jean 
Merlin,  looking  beneath  at  the  little  tiled  roof, 
the  garden  surrounded  with  palisades,  and  the 
yard  whence  the  mother  of  Jean  drove  her  ducks 
and  fowls  into  the  poultry-yard  towards  night,  for 
foxes  were  not  wanting  in  that  outskirt  of  the  for- 
est. I  looked  down  from  above,  and  I  cried,  rais- 
ing my  cap,  "  Hilloa !  Margredel,  good  evening." 

18 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Then  she  would  raise  her  eyes,  and  joyously 
reply  to  me,  "  Good  evening,  Mr.  Brigadier.  Are 
all  well  at  your  house  ?  " 

"Why,  yes,  Margredel,  very  well,  Heaven  be 
praised."  Then  I  would  come  down  through  the 
brushwood,  and  we  would  shake  hands. 

She  was  a  good  woman,  always  gay  and  laugh- 
ing, because  of  her  great  confidence  in  God,  which 
made  her  always  look  upon  the  bright  side  of 
things.  Without  ever  having  said  anything  to 
each  other,  we  knew  very  well  of  what  we  were 
each  thinking ;  we  only  needed  to  talk  about  the 
weather  to  understand  all  the  rest. 

And  when,  after  having  had  a  good  gossip,  I 
went  away,  Margredel  would  still  call  after  me,  in 
her  rather  cracked  voice,  for  she  was  nearly  sixty 
years  old,  "A  pleasant  walk  to  you,  Brigadier. 
Don't  forget  Mile.  Marie-Rose  and  the  grand- 
mother." 

"  Don't  be  afraid.     I'll  forget  nothing." 

She  would  make  a  sign  with  her  head  to  me 
that  it  was  all  right,  and  I  would  go  off  with 
lengthening  steps. 

It  sometimes  happened  to  me  also,  sometimes 
when  my  circuit  was  finished  before  five  o'clock, 
to  find  Jean  near  the  house,  at  the  other  side  of 
the  valley,  in  the  path  that  skirted  our  orchard, 

19 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Mid  Marie-Rose  in  the  garden  picking  vegetables. 
They  were  each  on  their  own  side,  and  were  talk- 
ing across  the  hedge  without  appearing  to  do  so  ; 
they  were  telling  things  to  each  other. 

That  reminded  me  of  the  happy  time  when  I 
was  courting  Catherine,  and  I  came  up  very  softly 
over  the  heather  till  I  was  within  twenty  steps  be- 
hind them,  and  then  I  cried,  "  Ho  !  ho  !  Jean  Mer- 
lin, is  it  like  this  that  you  perform  your  duties  ?  I 
catch  you  saying  fine  words  to  the  pretty  girls." 

Then  he  turned  round,  and  I  saw  his  embar- 
rassed look. 

"  Excuse  me,  Brigadier,"  he  said,  "  I  came  to 
see  you  on  business,  and  I  was  conversing  with 
Mile.  Marie-Rose  while  waiting.for  you." 

"  Oh,  yes,  that  is  all  very  well ;  we  will  see  to 
that.     I  do  not  trust  foxes  myself." 

And  other  jokes  without  end.  You  can  under- 
stand, George,  that  happiness  had  returned  to  us. 

I  had  as  much  confidence  in  Jean  Merlin  as  in 
Marie- Rose  and  in  myself.  The  evil  race  that  de- 
ceives does  not  exist  in  our  country  ;  it  has  always 
come  from  elsewhere. 


20 


Brigadier  Frederick 

IV 

Things  went  on  like  this  throughout  the 
whole  year  1868.  Jean  Merlin  took  every  possible 
occasion  to  present  himself  at  the  house,  either  on 
business  connected  with  his  office,  or  else  to  con- 
sult me  on  his  family  affairs.  He  had  but  one 
fear,  that  was  of  being  refused.  Sometimes,  when 
we  were  walking  together  in  the  woods,  I  saw 
him  musing,  with  drooping  head ;  he  seemed  to 
wish  to  speak  ;  he  raised  his  voice  suddenly,  and 
then  was  silent. 

For  my  part,  I  wished  that  he  would  be  a  little 
more  courageous,  but  I  could  not  open  the  sub- 
ject ;  that  would  not  have  been  proper  for  his 
superior;  I  awaited  his  formal  proposal,  thinking 
that  he  would  end  by  writing  to  me,  or  by  send- 
ing me  one  of  his  relatives  to  make  a  ceremonious 
declaration :  his  uncle  Daniel,  for  instance,  the 
schoolmaster  of  Felsberg,  a  respectable  man,  who 
was  able  to  take  charge  of  so  delicate  a  commis- 
sion. 

It  often  happened  to  me  also  to  reflect  upon 
what  concerned  me  particularly.  I  asked  nothing 
better  than  to  see  my  daughter  happy,  but  I  had 
to  try  to  arrange  all  interests  in  accord  as  much  as 
possible.      When  one  thinks  of  nothing,  every- 

21 


Brigadier  Frederick 

thing  appears  simple  and  easy,  and  yet  the  best 
things  have  their  evil  side. 

I  had  still  nearly  two  years  to  serve  before  re- 
tiring, but  after  that,  if  my  son-in-law  was  not 
named  brigadier  in  my  place,  we  would  be  forced 
to  quit  the  old  house,  where  I  had  passed  so  many 
years,  with  the  beings  who  were  dear  to  me — 
father-in-law  Burat,  my  poor  wife,  grandmother 
Anne,  everybody,  in  fact ;  and  we  would  be 
obliged  to  abandon  all  that  to  go  live  in  a  land 
which  I  did  not  know,  and  among  strange  faces. 

That  idea  made  me  wretched.  I  knew  well 
that  Marie-Rose  and  Jean  Merlin  would  always 
respect  me  as  their  father ;  of  that  I  was  sure. 
But  the  habit  of  turning  round  in  the  same  corner 
and  of  seeing  the  same  things  becomes  a  second 
nature,  and  that  is  why  old  hares  and  old  foxes, 
even  when  they  have  received  gunshot  wounds  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  their  lair  or  their  hole,  al- 
ways return  there ;  they  need  the  sight  of  the 
brushwood  and  the  tuft  of  grass,  which  recall  to 
them  their  youth,  their  love,  and  even  the  annoy- 
ances and  the  sorrows  which,  in  the  long  run, 
make  up  three-quarters  of  our  existence,  and  to 
which  we  become  as  strongly  attached  as  to  mem- 
ories of  happiness. 

Ah !  I  never  should  have  believed  that  any- 
22 


Brigadier  Frederick 

thing  worse  could  happen  to  me  than  to  retire 
with  my  children  into  a  country  of  fir  trees  like 
ours,  and  into  a  little  house  like  my  own. 

These  things  made  me  very  uneasy,  and,  since 
the  departure  of  President  Mtinsch,  I  no  longer 
knew  of  whom  I  could  ask  a  bit  of  good  advice, 
when  at  length  all  was  settled  in  a  very  happy 
way,  which  touches  my  heart  even  now  when  I 
think  of  it. 


V 

You  must  know  that,  during  the  years  1867, 
1868,  and  1869,  roads  were  being  made  in  all  di- 
rections, to  facilitate  the  wood-cutting  and  to 
transport  the  wood  to  the  railway  and  the  canal. 
M.  Laroche,  Forest  Inspector  of  the  Canton  of 
Lutzelstein,  directed  these  great  works.  He  was 
a  man  of  fifty-five  years  of  age,  robust  and  serious, 
who  thought  of  nothing  but  his  business ;  hunting 
and  fishing  were  not  among  his  tastes  ;  to  be  well 
noticed  by  him,  there  was  no  question  of  being  a 
good  shot  or  a  skilful  trapper ;  it  was  necessary  to 
serve  him  well. 

He  often  came  himself  to  the  place,  explaining 
clearly  the  declivity  to  be  followed,  the  trees  which 
ought  to  be  felled,  etc.  ;  unless  one  was  idiotic,  he 

23 


Brigadier  Frederick 

could  not  but  understand.  Things  went  on  this 
way  briskly  and  well.  Naturally,  such  a  man 
would  know  all  his  workmen  thoroughly,  and 
when  he  was  satisfied,  he  would  address  to  you 
some  of  those  kind  words  that  make  your  heart 
light. 

For  my  part,  I  think  that  he  took  an  interest 
in  me,  for  often,  after  hearing  my  report  in  his 
office  at  Lutzelstein,  he  would  say  to  me,  "  That 
is  very  good,  very  good,  Father  Frederick  ! "  and 
would  even  shake  hands  with  me. 

Towards  the  spring  of  1869  the  order  arrived 
to  repair  the  road  which  descends  from  Petite 
Pierre  to  the  valley  of  Graufthal,  in  order  to  join 
the  new  highway  from  Saverne  to  Metting ;  the 
junction  fell  near  the  saw-mill,  not  far  from  the 
forester's  house ;  I  had  to  go,  therefore,  every 
working  day  with  my  brigade  to  survey  the 
works. 

The  first  part  was  almost  finished,  and  they 
had  commenced  to  blow  up  the  rocks  below,  near 
the  valley,  to  level  the  road,  when,  one  morning, 
going  to  make  my  usual  report  at  Lutzelstein,  the 
inspector  received  me  particularly  well. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock,  his  breakfast  hour, 
and  he  had  just  reached  his  house  as  I  rang. 

"  Ah !  it  is  you,  Father  Frederick,"  said  he, 
24 


Brigadier  Frederick 

gaily,  as  he  opened  his  door ;  "  fine  weather  this 
morning.     All  right  down  yonder  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,  all  is  going  well,  according  to  your 
orders." 

"  Very  good,"  said  he.  "  Sit  down,  I  have 
something  to  say  to  you.  You  will  breakfast  with 
me.  My  wife  is  with  her  parents  in  Champagne ; 
you  will  keep  me  company." 

Often,  when  I  arrived  at  breakfast  time,  he 
would  offer  me  a  glass  of  wine,  but  the  idea  had 
never  occurred  to  him  to  give  me  a  place  at  his 
table. 

11  Sit  down  there,"  said  he.  "  Here,  Virginie, 
bring  a  plate  for  the  brigadier.  You  can  bring  in 
breakfast." 

Imagine  my  astonishment  and  my  satisfaction. 
I  did  not  know  how  to  thank  him  ;  he  did  not 
seem  to  see  my  embarrassment.  He  commenced 
by  taking  off  his  tunic  and  putting  on  his  coat, 
asking  me :  "  You  have  a  good  appetite,  Father 
Frederick  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  that  never  fails  me." 

"  So  much  the  better !  Taste  this  beefsteak  ; 
Virginie  is  a  good  cook ;  you  will  tell  me  what 
you  think  of  it.     Here's  to  your  health  ! " 

"  Here's  to  yours,  sir." 

I  felt  as  if  I  were  dreaming ;  I  said  to  myself, 
25 


Brigadier  Frederick 

14  Is  this  really  you,  Frederick,  who  are  breakfast- 
ing here  in  this  handsome  room,  with  your  supe- 
rior, and  who  are  drinking  this  good  wine  ? "  And 
I  felt  embarrassed. 

M.  Laroche,  on  the  contrary,  grew  more  and 
more  familiar,  so  that,  finally,  after  three  or  four 
glasses,  I  discovered  that  the  thing  was  quite 
natural.  Because  his  wife  was  not  at  home,  I 
thought  that  he  was  glad  to  have  me  to  talk  over 
the  felling  of  the  timber,  the  new  clearings,  and 
our  road  from  Graufthal ;  so  I  grew  bolder,  and 
answered  him  laughing,  and  almost  without  em- 
barrassment. 

Things  went  on  thus  for  about  twenty 'min- 
utes; Mile.  Virginie  had  brought  in  the  biscuits, 
almonds,  and  Gruyere  cheese,  when,  throwing 
himself  back  in  his  chair,  and  looking  at  me  good- 
humouredly,  "  It  is  very  agreeable,"  said  he,  "  to 
be  as  well  as  we  are,  at  our  age.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  we 
have  not  yet  lost  our  teeth,  Father  Frederick  ! " 

44  No,  indeed  ;  they  are  well-rooted,  sir."  And 
I  laughed,  too. 

44  How  old  are  you  ?"  he  asked. 

"  I  shall  soon  be  fifty,  sir." 

44  And  I  am  fifty-five.  Well,  well,  it  is  all  the 
same ;  the  time  for  retiring  is  approaching ;  one  of 
these  days  they  will  slit  our  ears." 


Brigadier  Frederick 

He  was  still  laughing.  As  for  me,  when  I 
thought  of  that,  I  was  not  so  gay  as  before. 

Then  he  passed  me  the  cheese,  saying :  "  What 
do  you  think  of  doing  two  years  from  now  ?  For 
my  part,  my  wife  wants  to  take  me  into  her 
country,  Champagne.  That  is  a  great  bore ;  I 
do  not  like  the  plains ;  but,  you  know,  4  A  wilful 
woman  will  have  her  way.*  It  is  a  proverb,  and 
all  proverbs  have  an  astounding  air  of  good 
sense." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  answered  ;  "  such  proverbs  as  that 
are  really  annoying,  for  I  could  never  leave  the 
mountains ;  I  am  too  used  to  them.  If  I  had  to 
go,  I  should  not  live  two  weeks.  There  would  be 
nothing  left  to  do  but  throw  on  me  the  last  hand- 
ful of  earth." 

"  Without  doubt,"  he  said ;  "  but  when  the 
young  people  come,  the  old  people  must  give  up 
their  place." 

In  spite  of  the  good  wine,  I  had  become  quite 
silent,  thinking  of  those  unfortunate  things,  when 
he  said  to  me  :  "  In  your  place,  Father  Frederick, 
do  you  know  what  I  would  do  ?  Since  you  love 
the  mountains  so,  since  it  is,  so  to  speak,  your 
existence  to  live  in  the  forest — well,  I  would  look 
out  for  a  son-in-law  among  the  foresters ;  a  good 
fellow,  who  would  take  my  place  and  with  whom 

27 

C— Vol.  ii 


Brigadier  Frederick 

I  would  live  tranquilly  till  the  end,  in  the  midst  of 
the  green  caps  and  the  smell  of  the  firs." 

"  Ah  !  that  is  so,  sir  ;  I  think  of  it  every  day  ; 
but " 

"  But  what  ?  "  he  said.  "  What  hinders  you  ? 
You  have  a  pretty  daughter,  you  are  a  sensible 
man  ;  what  embarrasses  you  ?  It  is  not  for  want 
of  choice,  I  hope  ;  in  the  inspector's  guard,  big 
Kern,  Donadieu,  Nicolas  Trompette,  would  ask 
nothing  better  than  to  become  your  son-in-law. 
And  that  good  Jean  Merlin.  He  is  what  one 
might  call  a  model  forester — frank,  active,  intelli- 
gent, and  who  would  answer  your  purpose  ad- 
mirably. His  record  is  excellent ;  he  stands  first 
on  the  list  for  promotion,  and,  upon  my  word, 
Father  Frederick,  I  think  that,  on  your  retreat,  he 
has  a  good  chance  of  succeeding  you." 

When  I  heard  that,  I  got  red  up  to  my  ears, 
and  I  could  not  help  saying,  "  That  is  true  !  No 
one  has  anything  to  say  against  Jean  Merlin  ;  I 
have  never  seen  a  better  or  more  honest  fellow ; 
but  I  cannot  offer  my  daughter  to  people  who 
please  me  ;  Merlin  has  never  spoken  to  me  of 
marriage  with  Marie-Rose,  neither  has  his  mother 
Margredel,  nor  his  uncle  Daniel  ;  not  any  of  the 
family.  You  can  understand,  sir,  that  I  cannot 
make  the  advances  ;  it  would  not  be  proper  !     Be- 

28 


Brigadier  Frederick 

side,  everything  ought  to  be  done  decently  and  in 
order ;  the  proposal  ought  to  be  made  regularly  I " 

He  was  going  to  answer,  when  Mile.  Virginie 
came  in  to  pour  out  the  coffee,  so  he  took  a  box 
from  the  mantelpiece,  saying,  "  Let  us  light  our 
cigars,  Father  Frederick." 

I  saw  that  he  was  amused,  and  when  the  serv- 
ant went  out  he  cried,  laughing,  M  Come,  now, 
Father  Frederick,  do  you  really  need  some  one  to 
tell  you  that  Marie- Rose  and  Jean  Merlin  love 
each  other  with  all  their  hearts  ?  And  must  Uncle 
Daniel  come  and  declare  it  to  you  in  a  black  hood 
and  with  buckled  shoes  ?  " 

He  laughed  loudly,  and  as  I  sat  in  surprise : 

"Well,"  said  he,  "here  is  the  affair  in  two 
words  :  The  other  day  Jean  Merlin  was  so  melan- 
choly that  I  asked  him  if  he  was  sick,  and  the 
poor  fellow  confessed  to  me,  with  tears  in  his 
eyes,  what  he  called  his  misfortune.  You  are  so 
serious  and  respectable-looking  that  none  of  the 
family  dared  to  make  the  proposal,  and  the  good 
people  thought  that  I  would  have  some  influence. 
Must  I  put  on  my  grand  uniform,  Father  Fred- 
erick?" 

He  was  so  gay  that,  notwithstanding  my 
trouble,  I  answered  :  "  Oh,  sir,  now  all  is  well ! " 

"  Then  you  consent  ?" 
29 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"  Do  I  oonsent  ?  I  have  never  wished  for  any- 
thing else.  Yes,  yes,  I  consent,  and  I  thank  you. 
You  can  say,  M.  Laroche,  that  to-day  you  have 
rendered  Frederick  the  happiest  of  men." 

I  had  already  risen  and  had  put  my  bag  upon 
my  shoulder,  when  the  chief  guard,  Rameau,  en- 
tered, on  business  connected  with  the  service. 

"You  are  going,  Frederick?"  asked  the  in- 
spector. "Are  you  not  going  to  empty  your 
cup?" 

"  Ah  !  M.  Laroche,"  I  said,  "  I  am  too  happy 
to  keep  quiet.  The  children  are  waiting  for  me,  I 
am  sure  ;  I  must  go  carry  them  the  good  news." 

"  Go,  then,  go,"  he  said,  rising  and  accom- 
panying me  to  the  door;  "you  are  right  not  to 
delay  the  young  people's  happiness." 

He  shook  hands  with  me,  and  I  left,  after  sa- 
luting M.  Rameau. 


VI 

I  went  away  so  happy  that  I  could  not  see 
clearly.  It  was  only  at  the  end  of  the  street,  in 
going  down  at  the  left  again,  towards  the  valley, 
that  I  awoke  from  this  great  confusion  of  joyous 
ideas. 

30 


Brigadier  Frederick 

I  had  perhaps  taken  a  little  drop  too  much  ;  I 
must  confess,  George,  that  the  good  wine  had  daz- 
zled my  eyes  a  little  ;  but  my  legs  were  solid, 
nevertheless,  and  I  went  as  if  I  were  just  twenty 
years  old,  laughing  and  saying  to  myself  : 

u  Frederick,  now  everything  is  according  to 
rule,  no  one  will  have  anything  to  say ;  it  is  the 
inspector  himself  who  has  made  the  proposal  and 
that  is  a  thousand  times  better  than  if  it  had  been 
Uncle  Daniel.  Ha !  ha  !  ha  !  what  luck  !  Won't 
they  be  happy  when  they  learn  that  I  consent ; 
that  all  is  arranged  and  that  there  is  nothing  left 
to  do  but  to  sing  the  Gloria  in  Excelsis  ?  Ha ! 
ha !  ha !  And  you  can  laugh,  too,  for  all  has 
gone  as  you  wished  it.  You  will  stay  in  this 
country  to  the  end  of  your  existence ;  you  will 
see  the  woods  from  your  window,  and  you  will 
smell  the  sweet  odours  of  the  resin  and  the  moss 
till  you  are  eighty  years  of  age.  That  is  what  you 
needed,  to  say  nothing  of  the  rest ;  of  the  chil- 
dren, the  grand-children,  e.tc." 

I  wanted  to  dance  as  I  descended  the  Fro- 
muhle  road. 

It  was  then  about  six  o'clock,  and  night  was 
approaching  ;  with  the  coolness  of  the  evening  the 
frogs  were  beginning  their  music  in  the  midst  of 
the  reeds,  and  the  high  grasses  of  the  pool,  and 

3i 


Brigadier  Frederick 

the  old  fir  trees  on  the  other  side  of  the  shore 
showed  blue  against  the  darker  sky.  I  stopped 
from  time  to  time  to  look  at  them  and  I  thought : 

"  You  are  fine  trees,  straight  and  full  of  good 
sap,  and  so  you  will  remain  there  for  a  long  time 
to  come.  The  sun  will  delight  your  evergreen 
tops  till  you  are  marked  for  the  axe  of  the  wood- 
cutter. Then  that  will  be  the  end,  but  the  little 
firs  will  have  grown  up  in  your  shadow  and  the 
place  will  never  be  vacant." 

And  while  thinking  of  that,  I  recommenced 
my  march,  quite  touched,  and  I  cried : 

"  Yes,  Frederick,  such  will  be  your  lot.  You 
loved  father-in-law  Burat,  you  supported  him  when 
he  could  not  do  anything,  in  consideration  of  the 
confidence  he  had  reposed  in  you,  and  because  he 
was  a  good  man,  an  old  servant  of  the  state  and  a 
man  to  be  respected.  Now  it  is  your  turn  to  be 
loved  and  supported  by  those  who  are  full  of 
youth  ;  you  will  be  in  the  midst  of  them  like  one 
of  these  old  fir  trees,  covered  with  white  moss. 
The  poor  old  things,  they  deserved  to  live,  for  if 
they  had  not  grown  up  straight  they  would  have 
been  cut  down  long  ago  to  be  made  into  logs  and 
fagots." 

I  blessed  Providence  which  never  lets  the  hon- 
est perish,  and  it  is  thus  that  I  arrived,  towards 

32 


Brigadier  Frederick 

seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  on  the  Scienie  road 
at  the  bottom  of  the  valley.  I  saw  the  forester 
house  at  the  left,  near  the  bridge.  Ragot  was 
barking,  Calas  was  bringing  the  cattle  back  to  the 
stable,  shouting  and  cracking  his  whip,  the  flock 
of  ducks  on  the  bank  of  the  river  were  scratching 
and  picking  themselves  around  their  necks  and 
under  their  wings  and  tails,  while  awaiting  the 
hour  of  going  to  roost ;  some  chickens  were  still 
pecking  in  the  courtyard,  and  two  or  three  half- 
plucked  old  hens  were  napping  in  the  shadow  of 
the  little  wall. 

Then,  seeing  Ragot  running  to  meet  me,  I 
said  to  myself : 

"  Here  we  are.  Now  attention.  First  you 
are  going  to  speak.  Jean  Merlin  must  be  there 
for  certain.     All  must  be  quite  clear  beforehand." 


VII 

I  went  up  the  stairs  and  I  saw  Marie-Rose  in 
the  lower  room,  with  bare  arms ;  she  was  knead- 
ing dough  and  rolling  it  out  flat,  with  the  rolling- 
pin,  on  our  large  table,  to  make  noodles.  She  had 
seen  me  in  the  distance  and  continued  her  work 
without  raising  her  eyes. 

33 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"You  are  working  hard,  Marie-Rose,"  I  re- 
marked to  her. 

"  Ah  !  it  is  you,  father,"  said  she  ;  "I  am  mak- 
ing noodles." 

"Yes,  it  is  I,"  I  replied,  hanging  my  bag 
against  the  wall ;  "  I  have  come  from  the  inspec- 
tor's.    Has  any  one  been  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  father,  Jean  Merlin  came  to  make  his 
report,  but  he  went  away  again." 

"  Ah !  he  went  away  again,  did  he  ?  Very 
good  !  he  has  not  gone  far,  I  guess ;  we  have  some 
very  important  business  to  talk  over  K* 

I  came  and  went,  looking  at  the  dough,  the 
basket  of  eggs,  the  little  bowl  of  flour  and  Marie- 
Rose,  working  away  without  opening  her  lips. 

Finally  I  stopped  and  said  to  her : 

"  See  here,  Marie-Rose,  it  is  right  to  be  in- 
dustrious, but  we  have  something  else  to  do  just 
now.  What  is  this  that  I  have  just  heard  at  the 
inspector's  ?  Is  it  true  that  you  love  Jean  Mer- 
lin ?  " 

As  I  spoke  she  let  fall  the  rolling  pin  and 
flushed  scarlet. 

"Yes,"  I  said;  "that's  the  point!  I  don't 
mean  to  scold  you  about  it ;  Jean  Merlin  is  a  nice 
fellow,  and  a  good  forester,  and  I  am  not  angry  at 
him.      In  my  time  I  loved  your  mother  dearly, 

34 


Brigadier  Frederick 

and  father  Burat,  who  was  my  superior,  neither 
chased  me  away  nor  swore  at  me  because  of  it.  It 
is  a  natural  thing  when  one  is  young  to  think  of 
getting  married.  But  when  one  wishes  to  marry 
an  honest  girl,  one  must  first  ask  her  of  her  father, 
so  that  every  one  may  be  agreed.  Everything 
ought  to  be  conducted  sensibly." 

She  was  very  much  embarrassed,  for  on  hear- 
ing that  she  ran  to  get  a  pot  of  mignonette  and 
placed  it  on  the  sill  of  the  open  window,  an  action 
which  filled  me  with  surprise,  for  my  wife,  Cath- 
erine, had  done  the  same  thing  on  the  day  of  my 
proposal  to  call  me  in  ;  and  almost  at  once  Merlin 
came  out  of  the  clump  of  trees  under  the  rocks 
opposite,  where  I  also  had  hidden,  and  ran  across 
the  meadow  as  I  myself  had  run,  twenty-three 
years  before ! 

Then,  seeing  these  things,  I  did  also  what  old 
Burat  had  done.  I  placed  myself  in  the  hall  before 
the  door  of  the  room,  my  daughter  behind  me; 
and  as  Merlin  entered,  all  out  of  breath,  I  drew 
myself  up  and  said  to  him : 

"  Merlin,  is  it  true  what  the  inspector  tells  me ; 
that  you  love  my  daughter  and  ask  her  in  mar- 
riage ?  " 

"  Yes,  brigadier,"  he  answered  me,  placing  his 
hand  on  his  heart,  "  I  love  her  better  than  life  ! " 

35 


Brigadier  Frederick 

At  the  same  time  he  wished  to  speak  to  Marie- 
Rose,  but  I  cried : 

"  Stop  a  minute  !  You  love  her  and  she  has 
found  out  that  she  loves  you.  That  is  very  nice 
— it  is  agreeable  to  love  each  other !  But  you 
must  think  also  of  the  others,  of  the  old  people. 
When  I  married  Catherine  Burat  I  promised  to 
keep  her  father  and  mother  till  the  end  of  their 
days,  and  I  have  kept  my  word;  like  every  man  of 
honour ;  I  have  loved  them,  cared  for  them,  and 
venerated  them ;  they  have  always  had  the  first 
place  at  table,  the  first  glass  of  wine,  the  best  bed 
in  the  house.  Grandmother  Anne,  who  still  lives, 
is  there  to  say  it.  It  was  only  my  duty,  and  if  I 
had  not  done  it  I  would  have  been  a  villain ;  but 
they  have  never  had  any  complaints  to  make,  and 
on  his  death-bed  father  Burat  blessed  me  and  said : 
4  Frederick  has  always  been  to  us  like  the  best  of 
sons  ! '  I  deserve,  therefore,  to  have  the  same,  and 
I  wish  to  have  it  because  it  is  just !  Well,  now 
that  you  have  heard  me,  will  you  promise  to  be  to 
me  what  I  was  to  father  Burat  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  brigadier,"  said  he,  "  I  would  be  the  hap- 
piest of  men  to  have  you  for  a  father !  Yes,  yes, 
I  promise  to  be  a  good  son  to  you  ;  I  promise  to 
love  you  always  and  to  respect  you  as  you  de- 
serve." 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Then  I  was  touched,  and  I  said : 

"In  that  case,  all  right ;  I  give  you  the  hand 
of  Marie-Rose,  and  you  may  kiss  her." 

They  kissed  each  other  right  before  me,  like 
two  good  children  that  they  were.  Marie-Rose 
wept  profusely.  I  called  the  grandmother  into 
the  little  side-room  ;  she  came  leaning  on  my  arm 
and  blessed  us  all,  saying : 

"Now  I  can  die  in  peace,  I  have  seen  my 
grand-daughter  happy,  and  loved  by  an  honest 
man." 

And  all  that  day  till  evening  she  did  not  stop 
praying,  commending  her  grand-children  to  God. 
Merlin  and  Marie-Rose  did  not  weary  of  talking 
together  and  looking  at  each  other.  I  walked  to 
and  fro  in  the  large  room  and  told  them  : 

"  Now  you  are  affianced.  Jean  can  come 
whenever  he  likes,  whether  I  am  at  home  or  gone 
out.  The  inspector  told  me  that  he  was  first  on 
the  list  for  promotion,  and  that  he  would  doubt- 
less replace  me  at  my  retreat ;  that  cannot  be  far 
off  now  ;  then  we  will  celebrate  the  marriage." 

This  good  news  augmented  their  satisfaction. 

Night  came  on,  and  Jean  Merlin,  so  as  not  to 
worry  his  mother,  rose  and  kissed  once  more  his 
promised  bride.  We  accompanied  him  out  as  far 
as  the  great  pear  tree.     The  weather  was  magnifi- 

37 


Brigadier  Frederick 

cent,  the  sky  glittering  with  stars ;  not  a  bird  nor 
a  leaf  was  stirring,  all  were  sleeping  in  the  valley. 
And  as  Merlin  pressed  my  hand  I  said  to  him 
again : 

"You  will  tell  your  mother,  Margredel,  to 
come  without  fail  to-morrow  before  noon  ;  Marie- 
Rose  will  get  you  up  a  good  dinner,  and  we  will 
celebrate  the  betrothal  together ;  it  is  the  greatest 
festival  in  one's  life ;  and  if  Uncle  Daniel  could 
also  come  we  should  be  very  glad  of  it." 

"  Very  well,  Father  Frederick,"  he  said,  and 
then  he  walked  swiftly  away. 

We  went  in  again  with  tears  in  our  eyes. 
And  thinking  of  my  poor  Catherine,  I  said  to 
myself : 

"There  are  still  some  pleasant  days  in  life; 
why  is  my  good,  my  excellent  wife  no  longer 
with  us?" 

It  was  the  only  bitter  moment  I  had  during 
that  day. 

VIII 

You  understand,  George,  that  after  this,  all 
went  on  well.  I  had  nothing  more  to  think  of  but 
my  service.  Jean  Merlin  and  his  mother  Margre- 
del came  to  pass  every  Sunday  at  our  house, 

38 


Brigadier  Frederick 

It  was  autumn,  the  opening  of  the  season  for 
hunting  and  fishing ;  the  time  for  bird  catching 
and  snare  setting  in  the  woods,  and  for  fishing 
baskets  and  nets  at  the  river. 

The  old  watchmaker,  Baure,  of  Phalsbourg, 
arrived,  as  usual,  with  his  great  fishing  rod  and  his 
bag  for  the  trout ;  Lafleche,  Vignerol,  and  others, 
with  their  bird  calls  and  limed  twigs  ;  the  gentle- 
men from  Saverne  with  their  dogs  and  their  guns  ; 
they  whistled,  they  yelled ;  they  shot  hares  and 
sometimes  a  deer ;  then  all  these  people  came  to 
take  lunch  and  refresh  themselves  at  the  forester's 
house  ;  the  smell  of  frying  and  of  good  omelettes, 
with  ham,  reached  to  the  garden,  and  we  turned  a 
penny  or  two  at  the  house  that  way. 

As  you  know  all  these  things,  I  have  no  need 
to  tell  you  about  them. 

But  this  year  we  saw  also  arrive  quantities  of 
wood-cutters  from  the  Palatinate,  from  Bavaria, 
and  further ;  great  strapping  fellows,  with  knap- 
sacks on  their  backs  and  gaiters  with  bone  buttons 
on  their  legs,  who  were  going  to  Neiderviller,  to 
Laneville,  and  to  Toul  to  work  at  wood  fellingo 
They  passed  in  bands,  their  vests  hanging  from 
the  handles  of  their  axes  over  their  shoulders. 

These  people  emptied  their  mugs  of  wine  as 
they  passed ;  they  were  jolly  fellows,  who  filled 

39 


Brigadier  Frederick 

the  room  with  smoke  from  their  big  porcelain 
pipes,  asking  questions  about  everything,  laughing 
and  joking  like  people  who  have  no  trouble  about 
earning  their  living. 

Naturally  I  was  glad  to  have  them  stop  at  our 
house  ;  that  made  business  brisk. 

I  remember  at  this  time  a  thing  which  shows 
the  blindness  of  slow-witted  people  who  are  igno- 
rant of  what  is  going  on  at  twenty  leagues  from 
home,  and  who  trust  to  the  government  without 
thinking,  of  anything  ;  a  thing  of  which  I  am 
ashamed,  for  we  went  so  far  as  to  laugh  at  sensi- 
ble men,  who  warned  us  to  be  on  our  guard  ! 

One  day  our  whole  house  was  filled  with  peo- 
ple from  the  city  and  the  environs  ;  some  of  these 
strangers  among  the  rest.  They  were  laughing 
and  drinking,  and  one  of  the  tall  Bavarians,  with 
red  whiskers  and  big  mustaches,  who  was  before 
the  window,  cried  : 

"  What  a  lovely  country  !  What  magnificent 
fir  trees  !  What  are  those  old  ruins  up  there — and 
this  little  wood  yonder — and  that  path  to  the 
right — and  that  pass  to  the  left,  between  the 
rocks  ?  Ah  !  I  have  never  seen  such  a  country 
for  fruit  trees  or  fine  water  courses.  It  is  rich  ;  it 
is  green.  Is  there  not  a  steeple  behind  that  little 
wood  ?    What  is  the  name  of  that  pretty  village  ?  ' 

40 


Brigadier  Frederick 

I,  who  was  glad  to  hear  this  man  so  enthusias- 
tic over  our  valley,  I  told  him  about  everything  in 
detail. 

Baure,  Diirr,  Vignerol  were  talking  together ; 
they  were  smoking  and  going  occasionally  to  the 
kitchen  to  see  if  the  omelette  was  nearly  ready, 
without  troubling  their  heads  about  anything  else. 

But  near  the  clock  sat  Captain  Rondeau,  who 
had  returned  home  several  months  before  having 
retired  on  a  pension,  a  tall,  dry-looking  man,  with 
hollow  cheeks,  wearing  his  black  overcoat  but- 
toned up  to  the  chin,  suffering  from  wounds  re- 
ceived in  Italy,  Africa,  and  the  Crimea,  listening 
without  saying  anything  and  drinking  a  cup  of 
milk  because  Doctor  Semperlin  had  forbidden  him 
to  take  anything  else. 

This  went  on  for  a  whole  hour,  when  the  Bava- 
rians, having  emptied  their  mugs,  continued  their 
journey.  I  followed  them  to  the  door  to  show 
them  the  road  to  Biegelberg;  the  tall,  red-haired 
man  laughed,  showing  his  teeth  with  a  joyous 
air;  finally  he  shook  hands  with  me  and  cried, 
44  Thanks,"  as  he  went  to  join  his  band. 

While  they  were  taking  their  leave,  Captain 
Rondeau,  leaning  on  his  cane,  was  standing  in  the 
doorway,  and  he  watched  them  go  off  with  glitter- 
ing eyes  and  compressed  lips. 

4i 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"Who  are  those  people,  Father  Frederick?" 
he  said  to  me.     "  Do  you  know  them  ?" 

"Those  are  Germans,  captain,"  I  answered 
him  ;  "  wood-cutters ;  I  do  not  know  any  more 
about  them,  except  that  they  are  going  to  Toul, 
to  work  for  some  contractors  there." 

"Why  do  they  not  employ  Frenchmen,  these 
contractors  ?  " 

"Ah!  because  these  wood-cutters  are  cheaper 
than  ours ;  they  work  for  half-price." 

The  captain  frowned,  and  all  at  once  he  said : 

"  Those  are  spies ;  people  that  came  to  exam* 
ine  the  mountain." 

"  Spies  ?  How  is  that  ? "  I  answered,  in  aston- 
ishment. "  What  have  they  to  spy  out  here  ? 
Have  they  any  reason  to  meddle  in  our  affairs  ? " 

"  They  are  Prussian  spies,"  he  said,  dryly ; 
"  they  came  to  take  a  look  at  our  positions." 

Then  I  believed  almost  that  he  was  joking 
with  me,  and  I  said  to  him  : 

"  But,  Captain  Rondeau,  all  the  strong  points 
are  set  down,  and  any  one  can  buy  maps  of  the 
country  at  Strasburg,  or  Nancy,  or  anywhere." 

But,  looking  at  me  askance,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Maps !  maps !  And  do  your  maps  tell  how 
much  hay,  and  straw,  and  wheat,  and  oats,  and 
wine,  and  oxen,  and  horses  and  wagons  can  be  put 

42 


Brigadier  Frederick 

into  requisition  in  each  village  for  an  army  on  the 
march  ?  Do  they  tell  you  where  the  mayor  lives, 
or  the  curd,  or  the  postmaster,  or  the  receiver  of 
contributions,  so  that  one  can  lay  one's  hand  upon 
them  at  any  minute,  or  where  stables  can  be  found 
to  lodge  the  horses,  and  a  thousand  other  things 
that  are  useful  to  know  beforehand?  Maps,  in- 
deed !  Do  your  maps  tell  the  depth  of  the  streams, 
or  the  situation  of  the  fords  ?  Do  they  point  out. 
to  you  the  guides  that  are  best  to  take  or  the 
people  that  must  be  seized  because  they  might 
rouse  up  the  populace  ?  " 

And  as  I  remained,  my  amis  hanging  at  my 
sides,  surprised  at  these  things,  of  which  I  had 
never  thought,  Father  Baure  cried  from  the 
room : 

"  Well,  captain,  who  is  it  that  would  want  to 
attack  us?  The  Germans?  Ha!  ha!  ha!  Let 
them  come !  let  them  come !  We'll  give  them  a 
warm  reception.  Poor  devils !  I  would  not  like 
to  be  in  their  skins.  Ha!  ha!  ha!  We  would 
settle  them !  Not  one  should  go  out  alive  from 
these  mountains." 

All  the  others  laughed  and  cried  out :  "  Yes  f 
yes!  let  them  come!  Let  them  try  it!  We'll 
give  them  a  good  reception  ! " 

Then  the  captain  re-entered  the  room,  and, 
43 


Brigadier  Frederick 

looking  at  big  Fischer,  who  was  shouting  the  loud- 
est, he  asked  of  him : 

"  You  would  receive  them  ?  With  what  ?  Do 
you  know  what  you  are  talking  about  ?  Where 
are  our  troops,  our  supplies,  our  arms ;  where, 
where,  where,  I  ask  of  you  ?  And  do  you  know 
how  many  of  them  there  are,  these  Germans  ?  Do 
you  know  that  they  are  a  million  of  men,  exer- 
cised, disciplined,  organized,  ready  to  start  at  two 
weeks'  notice — artillery,  cavalry,  infantry  ?  Do 
you  know  that  ?     You  will  receive  them  ! " 

"  Yes,"  cried  Father  Baure,  "  Phalsbourg,  with 
Bitche,  Lichtenberg,  and  Schlestadt,  would  stop 
them  for  twenty  years." 

Captain  Rondeau  did  not  even  take  the  trouble 
to  reply,  and,  pointing  from  the  window  to  the 
wood-cutters  that  were  going  away,  he  said  to  me  : 

"  Look,  Father  Frederick,  look !  Are  those 
men  wood-cutters  ?  Do  our  wood-cutters  march  in 
ranks  ?  do  they  keep  step  ?  do  they  keep  their 
shoulders  thrown  back  and  their  heads  straight, 
and  do  they  obey  a  chief  who  keeps  them  in  order  ? 
Do  not  our  wood-cutters  and  those  of  the  moun- 
tains all  have  rounded  shoulders  and  a  heavy  gait  ? 
These  men  are  not  even  mountaineers  ;  they  come 
from  the  plains;  they  are  spies.  Yes,  they  are 
spies,  and  I  mean  to  have  them  arrested." 

44 


Brigadier  Frederick 

And,  without  listening  to  what  might  be  an- 
swered,  he  threw  some  sous  on  the  table  in  pay- 
ment for  his  cup  of  milk,  and  went  out  abruptly. 

He  was  scarcely  outside  the  door  when  all  who 
were  present  burst  out  laughing.  I  signed  to  them 
to  be  quiet,  for  that  the  captain  could  still  hear 
them ;  then  they  held  their  sides  and  snuffled 
through  their  noses,  saying : 

"  What  fun  !  what  fun  !  The  Germans  coming 
to  attack  us ! " 

Father  Baure,  while  wiping  his  eyes  with  his 
handkerchief,  said : 

"  He  is  a  good  fellow ;  but  he  got  a  rap  at  the 
Malakoff,  and  since  then  his  clock  has  been  out  of 
order,  and  it  always  strikes  noon  at  fourteen 
o'clock." 

The  others  recommenced  laughing,  like  real 
madmen,  so  that  I  thought,  George,  myself,  that 
the  captain  had  not  common  sense. 

All  that  comes  back  to  me  as  if  it  had  taken 
place  yesterday,  and  two  or  three  days  later,  hav- 
ing learned  that  the  captain  had  caused  the  wood- 
cutters to  be  arrested  in  a  body  at  the  Lutzelbourg 
station,  and  that,  their  papers  being  all  right,  they 
had  obtained  authorization  to  continue  their  jour- 
ney into  Lorraine,  notwithstanding  all  the  repre- 
sentations and  the  observations  of  M.  Rondeau,  I 

45 


Brigadier  Frederick 

believed    decidedly   that    the    worthy   man    was 
cracked. 

Every  time  that  Baure  came  to  the  forester's 
house  he  would  begin  upon  the  chapter  of  the 
German  spies,  and  made  me  very  merry  over  it. 
But  to-day  we  have  ceased  laughing,  and  I  am  sure 
that  the  jokers  of  Phalsbourg  no  longer  rub  their 
hands  when  the  feldwebel  makes  his  rod  whistle 
while  calling  to  the  conscripts  on  the  parade  ground, 
"  Gewehr  auf ! — Gewehr  ab!  "  I  am  sure  that  this 
sight  has  more  than  once  recalled  to  them  the 
captain's  warning. 


IX 

This  took  place  at  the  end  of  the  autumn  of 
1869 ;  the  valley  was  already  filled  with  mist ;  then 
came  the  winter :  the  snow  began  to  whirl  before 
the  panes,  the  fire  to  crackle  in  the  furnace,  and 
the  spinning-wheel  of  Marie-Rose  to  hum  from 
morning  till  night,  to  the  accompaniment  of  the 
monotonous  ticking  of  the  old  clock. 

I  paced  to  and  fro,  smoking  my  pipe,  and 
thinking  of  my  retreat.  Doubtless  Marie-Rose 
thought  of  it  also,  and  Merlin  spoke  to  me  some- 
times about  hurrying  up  the  marriage,  which  an- 

46 


Brigadier  Frederick 

noyed  me  considerably,  for  when  I  have  said  my 
say,  I  am  done,  and,  since  we  had  agreed  to  cele- 
brate the  marriage  the  day  of  his  nomination,  I 
did  not  see  the  use  of  talking  over  an  affair  already 
decided. 

But  the  young  people  were  in  a  hurry;  the 
dulness  of  the  season  and  the  impatience  of  youth 
were  the  causes. 

For  two  months  past,  Baure,  Vignerol,  Diirr, 
and  the  others  came  no  more ;  the  trees  bent  un- 
der their  load  of  icicles ;  no  one  passed  the  house 
any  more,  except  some  rare  travellers  afar  off  in 
the  valley.  The  history  of  the  captain's  spies, 
which  had  made  me  laugh  so  much,  had  entirely 
gone  out  of  my  head,  when  an  extraordinary  thing 
proved  to  me  clearly  that  the  old  soldier  had  not 
been  wrong  in  distrusting  the  Prussians,  and  that 
other  people  thought  of  dealing  foul  blows — people 
high  in  rank,  in  whom  we  had  placed  all  our  confi- 
dence. 

That  year  several  herds  of  wild  boars  ravaged 
the  country.  These  animals  scratched  up  the  newly- 
sown  grain ;  they  dug  up  the  ground  in  the  woods 
to  find  roots,  and  came  down  every  night  to  tear 
up  the  fields  around  the  farms  and  the  hamlets. 

The  peasants  were  never  done  lamenting  and 
complaining;  when,  finally,  we  heard  that  Baron 

47 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Pichard  had  arrived  to  organize  a  general  battle. 
I  received  at  the  same  time  the  order  to  go  and 
join  him,  at  his  rendezvous  of  Rothfelz,  with  the 
best  marksmen  of  the  brigade,  as  many  of  the 
huntsmen  of  the  neighbourhood  as  1  could  get 

It  was  in  December  I  started  with  Merlin,  big 
Kern,  Donadieu,  Trompette,  and  fifteen  or  twenty 
hunters,  and  in  the  evening  we  found  up  there  all 
the  baron's  guests,  filling  the  rooms  of  the  little 
hunting  lodge,  lying  on  straw,  eating,  drinking, 
and  joking  as  usual. 

But  you  know  all  about  those  things,  George ; 
you  remember  also  the  hunting  lodge  at  Rothfelz, 
the  cries  of  the  hunters,  the  barking  of  the  dogs, 
and  the  danger  of  the  guests,  who  fired  in  every 
direction  but  the  right  one,  in  the  lines  and  out  of 
the  lines,  always  imagining  at  the  end  that  they 
had  killed  the  great  beast.  As  for  us  guards,  we 
had  always  missed.  You  remember  that ;  it  is 
always  the  same  thing. 

What  I  want  to  tell  you  is,  that  after  the  hunt, 
in  which  some  wild  boars  and  a  few  young  pigs 
had  fallen,  they  had  a  grand  feast  in  the  hunting 
lodge.  The  carriages  of  the  baron  had  contained 
an  abundance  of  everything :  wine,  cherry  brandy, 
wheaten  bread,  pies,  sugar,  coffee,  cognac ;  and, 
naturally,   towards    midnight,   after    having    run 

48 


Brigadier  Frederick 

around  in  the  snow,  eaten,  drunk,  howled  and 
sung,  the  party  of  pleasure  wore  a  dubious  aspect. 

We  were  quartered  in  the  kitchen  and  well 
supplied  with  everything,  and,  as  the  door  of  the 
dining-room  was  open,  to  air  the  room,  we  could 
hear  everything  that  the  guests  said,  particularly 
as  they  shouted  at  the  tops  of  their  voices,  like 
blind  men. 

I  had  noticed  among  the  number  a  tall,  lean 
fellow,  with  a  hooked  nose,  black  eyes,  a  small 
mustache,  a  tightly-fitting  vest,  and  muscular  legs 
in  his  high  leather  gaiters,  who  handled  his  small 
gun  with  singular  skill ;  I  said  to  myself,  "  That 
man,  Frederick,  is  not  in  the  habit  of  sitting  before 
a  desk  and  toasting  his  calves  by  the  fire ;  he  is 
certainly  a  soldier,  a  superior  officer  ! " 

He  had  been  stationed  near  me  in  the  morning, 
and  I  had  noticed  that  his  two  shots  had  not 
missed  their  mark.  I  looked  upon  him  as  a  real 
huntsman,  and  so  he  was.  He  knew  also  how  to 
drink,  for  towards  midnight  three-fourths  of  the 
guests  were  already  fast  asleep  in  all  the  corners, 
and,  except  himself,  Baron  Pichard,  M.  Tubingue, 
one  of  the  largest,  richest  vine-growers  in  Alsace  5 
M.  Jean  Claude  Ruppert,  the  notary,  who  could 
drink  two  days  running  without  changing  colour 
or  saying  one  word  quicker  than  another ;  and  M. 

49 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Mouchica,  the  wood-merchant,  whose  custom  it  is 
to  intoxicate  every  one  with  whom  he  has  any 
dealings — except  these,  the  other  guests,  extended 
on  their  bundles  of  straw,  had  all  left  the  party. 

Then  a  loud  conversation  took  place ;  the 
baron  said  that  the  Germans  were  sending  spies 
into  Alsace,  that  they  had  agents  everywhere,  dis- 
guised as  servants  or  commercial  travellers  or  ped- 
dlers; that  they  were  drawing  out  maps  of  the 
roads,  the  paths,  the  forests ;  that  they  even  pene- 
trated into  our  arsenals  and  sent  notes  regularly  to 
Germany ;  that  they  had  done  the  same  thing  in 
Schleswig-Holstein  before  commencing  the  war, 
and  then  in  Bohemia,  before  Sadowa ;  that  they 
were  not  to  be  trusted,  etc. 

The  notary  and  M.  Mouchica  agreed  with  him 
that  it  was  a  very  serious  business,  and  that  our 
government  ought  to  take  measures  to  stop  this 
spy  system. 

Naturally,  when  we  heard  that,  we  listened 
with  all  our  ears,  when  the  officer  began  to  laugh, 
saying  that  he  was  more  ready  to  believe  what  the 
baron  said  because  we  were  doing  the  same  thing 
in  Germany  ;  that  we  had  engineers  in  all  the  for- 
tresses and  staff-officers  in  all  their  valleys.  And 
M.  Tubingue  having  said  that  that  was  impossible, 
that  no  French  officer  would  behave  that  way,  be- 

50 


Brigadier  Frederick 

cause  of  the  honour  of  the  army,  he  began  to  laugh 
still  louder,  and  said  : 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,  what  is  war  now  ?  It  is  an 
art,  a  game,  an  open  contest ;  they  look  over  each 
other's  hands  and  each  tries  to  make  out  the  cards 
of  his  adversary.  Look  at  me  ;  I  have  gone  all 
through  the  Palatinate  as  a  commercial  traveller ; 
I  sold  Bordeaux  to  those  good  Germans  ! " 

Then,  laughing  still  more,  the  gentleman  re- 
lated all  that  he  had  seen  on  his  road,  just  like 
what  Captain  Rondeau  had  said  that  the  Prussians 
were  doing  here,  adding  that  we  were  only  wait- 
ing for  an  excuse  to  seize  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
Rhine. 

When  they  heard  that,  my  guards  began  to 
stamp  their  feet  with  delight,  as  if  their  fortune 
was  made ;  and  at  once  the  door  was  closed,  and 
we  heard  nothing  more. 

I  went  out  into  the  air,  for  the  stupidity  of 
big  Kern,  Trompette,  and  the  others  disgusted  me. 

It  was  very  cold  outside ;  the  platform  was 
white  with  frost  and  the  moon  over  the  bristling 
old  firs  was  peeping  between  the  clouds. 

"What  is  the  matter,  brigadier?"  asked  Mer- 
lin, who  had  followed  me  ;  "  you  look  pale.  Do 
you  feel  sick  ? " 

"  Yes,  the  stupidity  of  Trompette  and  the 
5i 

O— Vol.  11 


Brigadier  Frederick 

others  has  upset  me  ;  I  should  like  to  know  what 
made  them  stamp,"  I  answered.  "  And  you,  too, 
Merlin  ;  you  surprise  me  !  You  think  that  it  is  a 
fine  thing  to  invade  the  country  of  our  neigh- 
bours ;  to  carry  off  the  wheat,  the  wine,  the  hay, 
and  the  straw  of  poor  people,  who  never  did  us 
any  harm.  You  think  it  is  fine  to  take  their 
country  and  to  make  them  French,  in  spite  of 
themselves.  That  is  sport.  You  think  that  is 
sport !  Would  you  like  to  become  a  German  ? 
Would  you  like  to  obey  the  Prussians  and  put 
aside  your  country  for  another  ?  What  would  it 
profit  us  to  do  such  a  thing  as  that  ?  Would  it 
make  us  richer  to  tear  out  the  souls  of  our  neigh- 
bours? Would  that  leave  us  with  a  good  con- 
science ?  Well,  for  my  part,  I  would  not,  for  the 
honour  of  our  nation,  have  an  ill-gotten  centime 
or  inch  of  land.  I  do  not  want  to  believe  what 
that  gentleman  says.  If  it  is  true,  so  much  the 
worse  !  Even  if  we  were  the  strongest  to-day,  the 
Germans,  from  father  to  son,  would  think  only 
of  vengeance,  of  returning  to  their  rights,  of 
reclaiming  their  blood.  Would  the  good  God  be 
just  to  abandon  them?  There  are  only  beings 
without  hearts  and  without  religion  who  are  capa- 
ble of  believing  it ;  gamblers,  who  imagine  stu- 
pidly that  they  will  always  win.     Nevertheless,  we 

52 


Brigadier  Frederick 

see  that  many  gamblers  end  their  days  on  a  dung- 
hill." 

"  Father  Frederick,"  said  Merlin,  "  don't  be 
angry  with  me.  I  had  never  thought  of  all  that ; 
it  is  true.  But  you  are  too  angry  to  return  to  the 
kitchen." 

11  Yes,"  I  answered,  "  let  us  go  to  sleep  ;  that 
is  better  than  drinking ;  there  is  still  room  in  the 
barn." 

We  did  so,  and  left  the  next  morning  at  day- 
break. 

What  I  have  just  told  you,  George,  is  true ;  I 
have  always  placed  justice  above  everything,  and 
even  now,  when  I  have  lost  all  that  I  loved  best 
in  the  world,  I  repeat  the  same  thing.  I  am  bet- 
ter pleased  in  my  great  misery  to  be  deprived  of 
the  fruit  of  my  labour  for  thirty  years  than  to 
have  lost  my  love  of  justice. 


X 

After  that  the  winter  passed  as  usual ;  rain, 
snow,  great  blasts  of  wind  through  the  leafless 
trees,  uprooted  firs,  dislodged  rocks,  covering 
with  earth  the   roads   and  paths   at  the  foot  of 

53 


Brigadier  Frederick 

the  slope.  That  is  what  I  had  seen  for  twenty- 
five  years  past. 

Then  gradually  the  spring  arrived.  The  cattle 
again  descended  to  drink  at  the  river.  Calas  be- 
gan to  sing  again  as  he  cracked  his  whip,  and  the 
cock  began  to  flap  his  wings  on  the  low  wall  of 
the  poultry-yard,  in  the  midst  of  his  hens,  filling 
with  his  clear  voice  all  the  echoes  of  the  valley. 

Ah !  how  all  that  comes  back  to  me,  George, 
and  how  beautiful  those  things  to  which  I  then 
paid  no  attention,  appear  to  me  now  in  this  gar- 
ret into  which  scarcely  a  ray  of  light  can  pene- 
trate. 

It  was  our  last  spring  at  the  forest  house. 

Marie-Rose,  every  morning,  in  her  short  petti- 
coat, with  her  clean  fichu  crossed  over  her  bosom, 
went  into  the  garden  with  her  basket  and  the  old 
earthy  knife,  to  gather  the  first  vegetables.  She 
came  and  went,  lifting  up  the  bordering  of  box 
that  edged  the  little  alleys,  and  tied  up  the 
branches  of  the  rose  bushes  that  had  fallen  away 
from  their  stakes.  I  saw  in  the  distance  Jean 
Merlin,  advancing  at  a  swift  pace  through  the 
meadow  path,  skirting  the  old  willows ;  I  heard 
him  call  out : 

41  Marie-Rose  ! " 

She  instantly  rose  and  hastened  to  meet  him. 
54 


Brigadier  Frederick 

They  kissed  each  other  and  returned  laughing,  arm 
in  arm.     I  was  pleased  and  said  to  myself : 

"  They  love  each  other  dearly.  They  are  good 
children." 

Old  grandmother  Anne,  who  was  nearly  al- 
ways shut  up  in  her  own  room,  was  looking  too, 
leaning  out  of  the  little  window  surrounded  with 
ivy,  with  her  eyelids  puckered  up,  her  old  face 
wrinkled  with  satisfaction  ;  she  called  me  : 

"  Frederick  ! " 

"  What  is  it,  grandmother?" 

"I  am  growing  young  as  at  the  time  of  my 
own  marriage.  It  was  the  year  of  the  comet  in 
which  they  made  such  good  wine  before  the  great 
Russian  winter ;  you  have  heard  them  talk  of  that, 
Frederick  ;  all  our  soldiers  were  frozen." 

"  Yes,  grandmother." 

She  liked  to  recall  those  old  stories,  and  we 
did  not  think  that  we  should  soon  see  the  same 
things. 

The  good  people  of  Phalsbourg,  the  poorest, 
such  as  father  Maigret,  old  Paradis,  grandfather 
Lafoug£re,  all  of  them  old  soldiers  without  any 
means  of  subsistence  but  public  charity  and  their 
medal  of  St.  Helena,  began  to  come  to  look  for 
mushrooms  in  the  woods  ;  they  knew  all  the  differ- 
ent kinds  from  the  small  to  the  large  Polish  mush- 

55 


Brigadier  Frederick 


room  ;  they  gathered  also  strawberries  and  mul- 
berries. The  wood  strawberries,  which  are  the 
best,  sell  in  the  town  for  two  sous  a  quart,  mush- 
rooms for  three  sous  the  small  basketful. 

The  lower  meadow,  by  the  river  bank,  gave 
them  also  quantities  of  salad.  How  many  times 
those  poor  old  backs  were  forced  to  stoop  in  order 
to  earn  a  sou  / 

And  every  year  we  received  orders  to  enforce 
the  forest  laws  more  severely,  to  prevent  the  poor 
from  picking  up  the  dead  leaves  and  beech  nuts, 
which  was  as  much  as  to  say  to  "  prevent  them 
from  living." 

Things  went  on  this  way  till  the  hay-making 
season,  when  came  the  great  drought ;  it  lasted 
till  the  end  of  July,  and  we  feared  for  the  po- 
tatoes. 

As  to  the  plebiscite,  I  won't  talk  to  you  about 
that ;  those  things  did  not  worry  us  foresters 
much.  One  fine  morning  we  received  the  order 
to  go  to  the  Petite  Pierre,  and  all  the  brigade, 
after  assembling  at  my  house,  left  together  in 
their  holiday  clothes  to  vote ;  yes,  as  we  had  been 
ordered  to  do.  Then,  stopping  at  the  inn  of  the 
Three  Pigeons,  we  drank  a  bumper  to  the  Em- 
peror's health,  after  which  every  one  went  home 
and  never  thought  of  it  any  more. 

56 


Brigadier  Frederick 

The  people  complained  of  but  one  thing  at 
Graufthal,  Dosenheim,  and  Echbourg,  and  that 
was  the  lack  of  rain.  But  in  the  depths  of  the 
valleys  dry  weather  was  always  the  most  beautiful 
and  the  richest ;  we  never  lacked  moisture ;  the 
grass  grew  in  abundance,  and  all  the  birds  in  Al- 
sace, blackbirds,  thrushes,  bullfinches,  and  wood 
pigeons,  with  their  young  nestlings,  enjoyed  them- 
selves with  us  as  if  in  an  aviary. 

It  was  also  the  best  time  one  could  wish  for 
fishing,  for  when  the  waters  were  low  all  the  trout 
ascended  to  the  springs  beneath  the  rocks,  where 
one  could  take  them  out  in  one's  hand. 

You  may  well  believe  that  there  was  no  lack 
of  fishermen.  Marie-Rose  had  never  before  had 
as  many  omelettes  and  fried  dishes  to  prepare. 
She  superintended  everything  and  answered  the 
compliments  made  to  her  upon  her  approaching 
marriage  without  stopping  her  work.  She  looked 
as  fresh  as  a  rose ;  merely  looking  at  her,  Jean 
Merlin's  eyes  grew  moist  with  tenderness. 

Who  would  have  imagined  at  that  time  that 
we  were  going  to  have  a  war  with  the  Prussians  ? 
What  interest  had  we  in  that  ?  Beside,  did  not 
every  one  say  that  the  plebiscite  had  been  voted  to 
keep  peace  ?  Such  an  idea  had  never  entered  our 
heads,  when,  one   July  evening,  the   little  Jew, 

57 


Brigadier  Frederick 

David,  who  had  been  to  Dosenheim  to  buy  a  calf, 
said  to  me  as  he  passed  : 

"  You  have  heard  the  great  news,  brigadier  ?  " 

"No;  what  is  it?" 

"  Well,  the  Paris  newspapers  say  that  the  Em- 
peror is  about  to  declare  war  upon  the  King  of 
Prussia." 

I  could  not  believe  it,  because  the  wood-mer- 
chant Schatner,  who  had  returned  a  few  days  be- 
fore from  Sarrebriick,  had  told  me  that  the  coun- 
try thereabouts  was  swarming  with  troops,  cavalry, 
infantry,  artillery,  and  that  even  the  citizens  had 
their  knapsacks,  their  guns,  and  their  complete 
outfits,  ticketed  and  numbered,  all  arranged  in 
good  order  on  shelves  in  large  barracks,  and  that 
at  the  first  sign  of  the  hauptmann  these  people 
would  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  dress  themselves, 
receive  cartridges,  get  into  a  railway  car,  and  fall 
upon  our  backs  en  masse.  As  for  us,  we  had 
nothing  at  all,  either  in  our  towns  or  our  villages, 
so  simple  good  sense  made  me  think  that  they 
would  not  declare  war  on  these  Germans  before 
having  put  us  in  a  condition  to  defend  our- 
selves. 

So  I  shrugged  my  shoulders  when  the  Jew 
told  me  such  an  absurd  thing,  and  I  said  : 

u  Do  you  take  the  Emperor  for  a  fool  ?" 
58 


Brigadier  Frederick 

But  he  went  off,  dragging  his  calf  by  the  rope, 
and  saying : 

"  Wait  a  bit,  brigadier ;  you  will  see — this 
won't  last  long." 

All  that  he  could  say  on  that  score  came  to  the 
same  thing,  and  when  Jean  Merlin  came  that 
evening,  as  usual,  it  never  occurred  to  me  to  tell 
him  about  it. 

Unfortunately,  eight  or  ten  days  later,  the 
thing  was  certain  ;  they  were  calling  in  all  soldiers 
away  on  leave  of  absence.  It  was  even  stated 
that  the  Bavarians  had  cut  the  telegraph  wires 
in  Alsace — that  innumerable  troops  were  passing 
Saverne,  and  that  others  were  encamped  at  Nie- 
derbronn. 


XI 

All  at  once  it  was  rumoured  that  there  had 
been  fighting  near  Wissembourg,  and  that  same 
evening  the  inhabitants  of  Neu  Wilier,  fleeing 
with  their  furniture  piled  on  carts  to  Lutzelstein, 
told  us  at  the  very  door  of  the  house,  without 
daring  to  come  in,  that  several  of  our  battalions 
had  been  slaughtered  ;  that  the  general  of  the  van- 
guard had  been  left  on  the  field ;  that  Wissem- 

59 


Brigadier  Frederick 

bourg  was  in  flames,  and  that  our  troops  were 
retiring  towards  Bitche. 

These  people  seemed  bewildered  with  terror ; 
instead  of  continuing  on  their  way  to  Petite 
Pierre,  the  idea  struck  them  all  at  once  that  it 
was  not  strongly  enough  fortified,  and  in  spite 
of  the  circuit  of  three  leagues  that  they  had 
just  made,  the  whole  band,  men  and  women, 
began  to  climb  the  Falberg  hill  to  fly  to  Stras- 
bourg. 

Then  desolation  reigned  among  us.  Merlin 
and  his  mother  came  to  our  house  to  talk  over  the 
bad  news.  The  grandmother  lamented.  As  for 
me,  I  said  there  was  no  need  to  be  cast  down 
about  it,  that  the  Germans  would  never  dare  to 
risk  themselves  in  our  forests ;  that  they  did  not 
know  the  roads,  and  other  reasons  like  that,  which 
did  not  prevent  me  from  being  very  uneasy  my- 
self, for  all  that  Captain  Rondeau  had  said  to  us 
one  year  before  came  back  to  me ;  the  wood-cut- 
ters that  he  had  caused  to  be  arrested  at  Lutzel- 
stein  rose  before  my  eyes ;  and  then  I  was  humili- 
ated to  think  that  the  soldiers  of  Baden  and  Bava- 
ria had  beaten  the  French  at  their  first  encounter. 
I  knew  that  they  were  ten  to  one,  but  that  did 
not  lessen  my  grief. 

It  was  our  first  bad  night.  I  could  not  sleep, 
60 


Brigadier  Frederick 

and  I  heard  Marie-Rose,  in  her  little  side  room, 
get  up,  open  the  window,  and  look  out. 

All  outside  was  as  silent  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened ;  not  a  leaf  was  stirring,  so  calm  was  the 
air ;  some  crickets  were  chirping  on  the  ground, 
which  was  still  warm  six  hours  after  sunset,  and 
along  the  river  the  frogs  were  uttering  their  long, 
drawn-out  cry. 

My  inward  emotion  prevented  me  from  sleep- 
ing. About  four  o'clock  Ragot  began  to  bark 
down-stairs ;  some  one  was  knocking  at  the  door, 
I  dressed  myself,  and  two  minutes  after,  went 
down  to  open  the  door. 

A  man,  the  younger  Klein-Nickel,  of  Petite 
Pierre,  brought  me  an  order  from  Inspector  La- 
roche  to  come  without  delay. 

Marie-Rose  had  come  down-stairs.  I  only 
waited  long  enough  to  snatch  a  morsel,  and  then 
I  left  with  my  gun  slung  over  my  shoulder.  By 
seven  o'clock  I  was  at  M.  Laroche's  door,  and  I 
went  in.  The  inspector  was  seated  at  his  desk 
writing. 

"  Ah  !  it  is  you,  Frederick,"  he  said,  laying 
down  his  pen,  "  take  a  seat.  We  have  had  some 
pretty  bad  news ;  you  know  that  our  little  body 
of  men  detached  for  observation  has"  had  a  misfor- 
tune?" 

61 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"Yes,  sir." 

"They  allowed  themselves  to  be  surprised," 
said  he ;  "  but  that  is  nothing ;  it  will  not  occur 
again." 

He  appeared  as  tranquil  as  usual,  and  said  that 
in  every  war  there  were  ups  and  downs ;  that  a 
first  unfortunate  engagement  did  not  signify  any- 
thing, but  that  it  was  always  good  to  take  precau- 
tions in  view  of  more  serious  events  impossible  to 
foresee ;  consequently,  that  it  was  necessary  to 
tell  all  the  men  of  my  brigade,  and  those  that  we 
were  employing  on  the  forest  roads,  to  be  ready 
to  march  with  their  pickaxes,  hatchets,  and  shovels, 
at  the  first  order,  because  it  would  perhaps  be 
necessary  to  blow  up  the  rocks  and  to  cut  the 
roads  by  means  of  ditches  and  the  felling  of  trees. 

"  You  understand,"  said  he,  seeing  me  rather 
uneasy,  "  that  these  things  are  simply  measures  of 
forethought,  nothing  is  threatening ;  Marshal  Mac- 
Mahon  is  concentrating  his  troops  near  Hagenau ; 
everything  is  in  movement ;  there  is  nothing  im- 
mediate to  fear ;  but  the  chief  thing  is  to  be  ready 
in  case  of  need ;  when  everything  is  ready,  we 
will  act  rapidly  and  surely.  I  may  receive  an 
order  from  General  de  Failly  to  block  the  roads, 
and  in  such  a  case  the  order  must  be  executed 
within  a  few  hours." 

62 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"  It  will  not  take  long,  sir,"  I  answered ; 
"  everywhere  the  rocks  are  leaning  over  the  roads  ; 
in  falling  they  would  take  everything  with  them 
to  the  bottom  of  the  valley." 

11  Exactly,"  said  he.  "  But,  first,  every  one 
must  be  warned.  We  have  no  lack  of  blasting 
powder;  if  the  order  arrives,  all  my  colleagues 
having  taken  the  same  measures,  it  will  be  a  day's 
journey  from  Bitche  to  Dabo ;  not  a  cannon,  not 
an  ammunition  wagon  can  pass  from  Alsace  to 
Lorraine." 

He  said  this  as  he  accompanied  me  to  the 
door,  and  shook  hands  with  me. 

As  I  was  going  thoughtfully  home,  I  saw  on 
the  height  of  Altenberg  some  soldiers  who  were 
planting  stockades  along  the  hillside.  The  great- 
est confusion  was  reigning  in  the  suburbs,  people 
were  running  from  house  to  house  to  get  news, 
two  or  three  companies  of  infantry  were  encamped 
in  a  potato-field. 

All  that  day  and  the  next  I  did  nothing  but 
carry  the  orders  of  the  inspector  from  Frohmuhle 
to  Echbourg,  from  Echbourg  to  Hangsviller,  to 
Graufthal,  to  Metting,  etc.,  telling  each  of  what 
he  would  have  to  do,  the  places  where  we  were  to 
meet,  the  rocks  which  we  were  to  attack. 

On  the  third  day  I  came  home,  so  worn  out 
63 


Brigadier  Frederick 

that  I  could  not  eat  nor  even  sleep  for  several 
hours.  However,  towards  morning  I  fell  into  a 
heavy  sleep,  from  which  I  was  roused  by  Marie- 
Rose  coming  into  my  room  and  opening  the  win- 
dow towards  Dosenheim. 

'*  Listen,  father,"  said  she,  in  a  trembling  voice  ; 
"listen  to  that  noise.  What  is  it?  We  hear 
nothing  but  that  in  the  whole  valley." 

I  listened.  It  was  an  endless  booming  that 
filled  the  mountain,  and  at  times  covered  the  noise 
of  the  wind  in  the  trees.  It  did  not  take  me  long 
to  understand  what  it  meant,  and  I  answered : 

"It  is  cannon.  They  are  fighting  seven  or 
eight  leagues  from  here,  near  Woerth.  It  is  a 
great  battle." 

Marie- Rose  instantly  ran  down-stairs,  and  after 
having  dressed  myself  I  followed  her  into  the 
lower  room,  where  the  grandmother  was  also  ;  her 
chin  trembled  as  she  looked  at  me  with  wide-open 
eyes. 

"  It  is  nothing,"  I  told  them ;  "  do  not  be 
afraid  ;  whatever  happens,  the  Germans  will  never 
come  this  far ;  we  have  too  many  good  places  to 
defend  our  passes." 

But  I  was  very  far  from  feeling  very  confident 
myself. 

The  cannonading  grew  louder,  sometimes  like 
64 


Brigadier  Frederick 

the  distant  rolling  of  a  storm  ;  then  it  died  away, 
and  we  heard  nothing  more  but  the  rustling  of  the 
leaves,  the  barking  of  Ragot  before  the  door,  and 
the  quacking  of  a  duck  among  the  willows  by  the 
river.  These  voices  of  the  solitude,  when  one 
thought  of  what  was  going  on  behind  the  cur- 
tain of  the  forest,  had  something  strange  about 
them. 

I  should  have  liked  to  climb  the  rocks  to  see 
at  least  what  was  going  on  on  the  other  side,  in 
the  plain ;  but  as  the  order  to  commence  opera- 
tions might  arrive  at  any  minute,  I  was  forced  to 
stay  where  I  was. 

This  went  on  till  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. 

I  walked  about,  trying  to  put  a  brave  face  on 
the  matter,  so  as  not  to  frighten  the  women.  This 
day,  the  sixth  of  August,  was  very  long ;  even  to- 
day, when  so  many  other  griefs  have  overwhelmed 
us,  I  cannot  think  of  it  without  a  heavy  heart. 

The  most  terrible  moment  was,  when  all  at 
once  the  dull  sound  that  we  had  heard  since  morn- 
ing ceased.  We  listened  at  the  garden  window, 
but  not  a  breath,  not  a  sound  but  those  from  the 
valley  reached  us.  It  was  only  after  a  few  min- 
utes that  I  said  : 

"  It  is  over.  The  battle  is  ended.  Now  some 
65 


Brigadier  Frederick 

are  running  away  and  the   others   are   pursuing 
them.     God  grant  that  we  have  conquered." 

And  till  night  not  a  soul  appeared  in  the 
neighbourhood.  After  supper  we  went  to  bed 
with  heavy  hearts. 


XII 

The  next  day  was  very  gloomy  ;  the  sky  was 
cloudy,  and  at  length  it  began  to  rain,  after  the 
two  months'  drought ;  the  rain  fell  heavily  and 
continuously ;  the  hours  passed  slowly  away,  the 
order  to  commence  operations  did  not  come,  and 
I  said  to  myself  : 

11  That  is  a  good  sign  !  So  much  the  better ! 
If  we  had  been  defeated  the  order  would  have  ar- 
rived early  this  morning." 

But  we  had  no  news,  and  about  three  o'clock, 
losing  patience,  I  said  to  Marie-Rose  and  the 
grandmother : 

"  See  here,  I  cannot  stand  this  any  longer ;  I 
must  go  to  Petite  Pierre  to  find  out  what  is  go- 
ing on." 

I  put  on  my  water-proof  cape  and  went  out 
into  the  pouring  rain.  On  our  sandy  soil  the 
water  flows  off  without  soaking  into  the  ground. 
I  arrived  at  Petite-Pierre,  where  every  one  was 

66 


Brigadier  Frederick 

then  shut  up  in  the  cottages,  about  six  o'clock. 
At  the  point  of  the  fort,  high  up  in  air  a  sentinel 
was  on  guard  outside  of  his  watch-box. 

A  few  minutes  later  I  entered  the  office  of  the 
chief  inspector.  He  was  there  alone,  walking  up 
and  down  with  a  bowed  back  and  a  gloomy  air, 
and  when  I  raised  my  hood  he  stopped  short  and 
said  to  me : 

"It  is  you,  Father  Frederick,  is  it  ?  Have  you 
come  to  hear  the  news  and  to  get  your  orders  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  replied. 

11  Well,  the  news  is  bad  ;  the  battle  is  lost ;  we 
are  repulsed  from  Alsace,  and  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  Germans  are  advancing  to  enter 
Lorraine." 

A  cold  shiver  ran  down  my  back,  and  as  he 
said  no  more  I  murmured  : 

"  Everything  is  ready,  sir  ;  there  is  nothing  to 
do  but  to  distribute  the  powder  for  the  mines  and 
to  commence  felling  the  trees ;  we  are  all  ready 
and  waiting." 

Then,  smiling  bitterly  and  running  his  hands 
through  his  thick  brown  hair,  he  cried : 

"  Yes,  yes,  we  are  all  like  that.  Time  presses ; 
the  retreat  is  continuing  by  Bitche  and  Saverne, 
the  enemy  is  sending  out  scouts  in  all  directions, 
and  the  orders  do  not  come." 

67 


Brigadier  Frederick 


I  answered  nothing,  and  then,  seating  himself, 
he  cried : 

"  After  all,  why  should  I  hide  the  truth  from 
you  ?  General  de  Failly  has  sent  me  word  that 
the  abattis  are  useless,  and  that  there  is  nothing 
for  us  to  do." 

I  was  as  though  rooted  to  the  ground  and  a 
cold  trembling  shook  my  limbs.  The  inspector 
recommenced  his  walk  with  his  hands  crossed  be- 
hind his  back  under  the  skirts  of  his  coat,  and  as 
he  paced  to  and  fro,  without  saying  another  word, 
I  added : 

"  And  now,  what  are  we  to  do,  sir  ? " 

"  Remain  at  your  posts  like  brave  fellows," 
he  said.  "  I  have  no  other  orders  to  give 
you.". 

Something  choked  me  ;  he  saw  that,  and,  look- 
ing at  me  with  moistened  eyes,  he  held  out  his 
hand  to  me,  saying  : 

"  Come,  Father  Frederick,  take  courage.  After 
all,  it  is  pleasant  to  be  able  to  say,  a  hand  upon  the 
heart,  'lam  a  brave  man  ! '  That  is  our  recom- 
pense." 

And  I  said,  deeply  moved : 

"  Yes,  sir,  yes,  that  is  all  which  remains  to  us, 
and  that  will  never  be  lacking." 

He  did  me  the  honour  to  accompany  me  down 
68 


Brigadier  Frederick 

the  walk  to  the  gate,  and  again  pressing  my  hand, 
he  cried : 

"  Courage  !  courage  ! " 

Then  I  set  off  again,  descending  the  great  val- 
ley. The  rain  covered  the  pool  of  the  Fromuhle, 
which  was  quivering  all  gray  among  the  willows 
and  the  parched  herbage. 

As  to  telling  you  about  the  ideas  which 
chased  each  other  through  my  head,  and  how 
often  I  passed  my  hand  over  my  face  to  wipe 
away  the  tears  and  the  rain  which  were  flow- 
ing from  it — as  to  relating  to  you  that,  George, 
it  is  not  in  my  power ;  that  would  take  a  wiser 
man  than  I ;  I  felt  myself  no  longer,  I  did  not 
know  myself,  and  I  repeated  to  myself  in  my 
trouble  : 

"  No  orders — it  is  useless.  The  general  says 
that  it  is  useless  to  cut  down  the  trees  and  to 
block  up  the  roads.  Then  he  wants  the  enemy  to 
advance  and  to  come  through  the  passes." 

And  I  marched  on. 

It  was  dark  night  when  I  reached  the  house. 
Marie-Rose  was  waiting  for  me,  seated  by  the 
table ;  she  observed  me  with  an  anxious  eye,  and 
she  seemed  to  ask,  "What  has  happened — what 
orders  have  we." 

But  I  said  nothing,  and,  throwing  my  cape,  all 
69 


Brigadier  Frederick 

streaming  with  rain,  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  and 
shaking  my  cap,  I  cried  : 

"  Go  to  bed,  Marie-Rose,  we  will  not  be  dis- 
turbed to-night ;  go  and  sleep  tranquilly  ;  the  gen- 
eral at  Bitche  does  not  want  us  to  stir.  The  bat- 
tle is  lost,  but  we  will  have  another  in  Alsace,  at 
Saverne,  or  farther  off,  and  the  roads  are  to  remain 
open.  We  have  no  need  to  do  anything,  the  roads 
will  be  well  guarded." 

I  do  not  know  what  she  thought  about  it,  but 
at  the  end  of  a  minute,  seeing  that  I  did  not  sit 
down,  she  said  : 

"  I  have  kept  your  soup  near  the  fire,  and  it 
is  still  hot  if  you  would  like  something  to  eat, 
father." 

"  Bah  !  I  am  not  hungry,"  I  answered ;  u  let 
us  go  to  bed  :  it  is  late,  and  that  is  the  best  thing 
to  do." 

I  could  no  longer  restrain  myself ;  anger  was 
gaining  upon  me.  I  went  out  and  bolted  the 
door,  and  then  taking  the  lamp  I  went  up-stairs. 
Marie-Rose  followed  me,  and  we  each  went  to 
our  own  room. 

I  heard  my  daughter  go  to  bed,  but  I  remained 
thinking  for  a  long  time,  leaning  my  elbows  on  the 
table  and  watching  the  little  yellow  light  before 
the  black  panes  where  the  ivy  leaves  were  shivering 

7o 


Brigadier  Frederick 

in  the  rain,  winking  my  eyes  and  saying  to  my- 
self: 

"  Frederick,  there  are,  nevertheless,  many  asses 
in  the  world,  and  they  do  not  walk  in  the  rear ; 
they  march  in  front  and  lead  the  others." 

At  last,  as  the  night  advanced  towards  two 
o'clock,  thinking  that  it  was  useless  to  burn  oil  for 
nothing,  I  undressed  and  went  to  bed,  blowing 
out  my  lamp. 

On  that  very  night  of  the  seventh  to  the  eighth 
of  August,  the  Germans,  having  reconnoitred  to  a 
great  distance  and  finding  that  all  the  roads  were 
free,  advanced  in  a  body  and  took  possession  of 
the  passes,  not  only  of  La  Zingel  but  also  of  La 
Zorn,  thus  investing  Phalsbourg,  the  bombardment 
of  which  was  begun  two  days  later. 

They  passed  also  into  Lorraine  by  the  great  tun- 
nel of  Homartin,  while  our  army  fell  back,  by  forced 
marches,  upon  Nancy,  and  finally  upon  Chalons. 

Thus  the  two  great  German  armies  of  Woerth 
and  Forbach  found  themselves  united,  and  all 
others  were  as  if  swallowed  up,  cut  off  from  all 
help  and  even  from  all  hope. 

You  can  easily  picture  to  yourself  that  immense 
army  of  Prince  Frederick ;  Bavarians,  Wurtem- 
burgers,  Badeners,  cavalry,  artillery,  infantry,  which 
defiled  by  squadrons  and  by  regiments  through  our 

71 


Brigadier  Frederick 

lovely  valley  ;  that  torrent  of  human  beings  which 
goes  on  and  on,  ever  forward,  without  interruption 
during  a  whole  week,  and  the  cannon  which  thun- 
ders around  the  place,  and  the  old  rocks  of  the 
Graufthal  which  resound  with  echoes  upon  echoes, 
and  then  the  smoke  of  the  conflagration  which 
arises  to  Heaven  forming  a  sombre  dome  above 
our  valleys. 

XIII 

After  the  grand  passage  of  the  German  army 
and  the  bombardment  of  the  city,  thousands  of 
landwehr  came  to  occupy  the  country.  These 
people  filled  up  all  the  villages  and  hamlets ;  here 
one  company,  there  two ;  further  on  three  or  four, 
commanded  by  Prussian  officers.  They  guarded 
all  the  roads  and  paths,  they  made  requisitions  of 
all  kinds :  bread,  wheat,  flour,  hay,  straw,  cattle, 
nothing  came  amiss  to  them ;  they  amused  them- 
selves at  the  corner  of  the  fire,  talked  of  their  wives 
and  children  with  an  air  of  tender  emotion,  pitied 
the  fate  of  their  poor  brothers  of  Alsace  and  Lor- 
raine, and  sighed  over  our  misery.  But  all  that 
did  not  prevent  them  from  eating  and  drinking 
heartily  at  our  expense,  and  from  stretching  them 
selves  out  in  the  old  arm-chair  of  the  grandmother 

n 


Brigadier  Frederick 

or  grandfather,  smoking  with  satisfaction  the  cigars 
that  we  were  obliged  to  furnish  for  them  !  Yes, 
fine  words  did  not  cost  them  much.  This  is  what 
I  have  often  seen  at  Graufthal,  at  Echbourg,  Ber- 
linger,  Flangeviller,  where  the  desire  to  learn  the 
news  made  me  go  from  time  to  time,  wearing  a 
blouse  and  carrying  a  stick. 

From  the  first  days  of  September  their  governor- 
general,  Bismark  Bohlen,  came  to  establish  himself 
at  Hagenau,  declaring  that  Alsace  had  always  been 
a  German  province,  and  that  his  Majesty  the  King 
of  Prussia  was  taking  possession  of  his  own ;  that 
Strasbourg,  Bitche,  Phalsbourg,  Nevy  Brisach  were 
to  be  considered  as  cities  rebelling  against  the 
legitimate  authority  of  King  William,  but  that 
they  would  soon  be  brought  to  their  senses  by  the 
new  bombshells  weighing  a  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds. 

This,  George,  was  what  they  said  openly  with 
us,  and  that  shows  that  these  Germans  took  us  for 
fools,  to  whom  they  could  tell  the  most  silly  jokes 
without  fear  of  being  laughed  at. 

Our  only  consolation  was  that  we  lived  in  the 
midst  of  the  forest,  in  which  these  brave  people 
did  not  like  to  risk  themselves;  I  thanked  Heaven 
for  it  every  evening.  But  scarcely  was  Bismark 
Bohlen  installed  than  we  saw  passing  every  morn- 

73 


Brigadier  Frederick 

ing  and  evening  regularly  mounted  gens-cTarmes 
in  the  valley,  with  their  helmets  and  their  great 
cloaks,  with  packets  of  proclamations,  which  the 
mayors  were  obliged  to  post  up  on  the  doors  of 
their  offices  and  the  churches. 

These  proclamations  promised  the  kindest  of 
treatment  to  the  faithful  subjects  of  King  William, 
and  threatened  with  death  all  those  who  assisted 
the  French,  whom  they  called  "  our  enemies !"  It 
was  forbidden  to  give  them  bread  or  even  a  glass 
of  water  in  their  misfortune,  to  serve  them  as 
guides,  or  to  hide  them  in  one's  house ;  one  must 
give  them  up  to  be  an  honest  man ;  you  were  to 
be  judged  by  a  council  of  war  in  case  of  disobedi- 
ence, and  the  smallest  penalty  for  such  an  offence 
was  twenty  years  of  the  galleys  and  thirty-seven 
thousand  francs  fine. 

By  such  means  Bismark  Bohlen  could  dispense 
with  all  other  explanations  touching  the  races,  the 
German  fatherland,  and  the  rights  of  his  Majesty. 

Picture  to  yourself  now  our  solitude,  the  fear 
of  marauders,  whom  we  could  not  have  dared  to 
repulse,  because  they  would  have  presented  them- 
selves in  the  name  of  the  king.  Fortunately  that 
kind  of  people  are  not  very  courageous ;  it  was 
rumoured  that  sharp-shooters,  and  even  soldiers 
escaped  from  Woerth,  were  prowling  round  in  the 

74 


Brigadier  Frederick 

neighbourhood,  and  that  preserved  us  from  visits 
from  that  good  race  which  wished  us  so  much 
good. 

It  was  also  said  that  the  members  of  the  forest 
guard  would  be  kept,  that  the  salary  of  the  old 
guards  would  even  be  augmented,  and  that  several 
would  obtain  promotion. 

You  can  understand  my  indignation  when  I 
heard  such  things  said;  I  had  not  forgotten  the 
advice  of  our  good  Chief  Inspector ;  I  reminded 
our  men  of  it  at  every  opportunity : 

"  We  must  stay  at  our  posts !  Perhaps  the  luck 
will  not  always  be  against  us.  Let  every  one  do 
his  duty  till  the  end.  I  have  no  other  orders  to 
give  you." 

He  observed  this  order  himself,  staying  at  Petite 
Pierre  and  continuing  to  fulfil  the  duties  of  his 
office. 

Strasbourg  was  defending  itself ;  there  was 
fighting  going  on  round  Metz.  From  time  to 
time  I  sent  Merlin  to  get  the  orders  from  our 
superiors,  and  the  answer  was  always  :  "  Nothing 
is  hopeless.  We  may  be  called  upon  at  any  min- 
ute.    Let  every  one  stay  where  he  is ! " 

We  waited  then,  and  the  autumn,  always  so 
beautiful  in  our  mountains,  with  its  russet  leaves, 
its  silent  forests,  where  the  song  of  birds  was  no 

75 

E— Vol.  ii 


Brigadier  Frederick 

longer  heard ;  its  meadows  newly  mown  and 
smooth  as  a  carpet  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach ; 
the  river  covered  with  gladiols  and  dead  leaves, 
this  great  spectacle  so  calm  at  all  times,  was  still 
grander  and  sadder  than  ever  in  the  midst  of  the 
terrible  events  through  which  we  were  passing. 

How  often  then,  listening  to  the  endless  mur- 
mur of  the  forest,  over  which  was  passing  the  first 
cold  shiver  of  the  winter,  how  often  have  I  said  to 
myself : 

"While  you  are  looking,  Frederick,  at  those 
old  woods  wherein  everything  is  sleeping,  what  is 
happening  down  yonder  in  Champagne  ?  What 
has  become  of  that  immense  army,  the  cavalry,  the 
infantry,  the  cannons,  all  those  thousands  of  beings 
going  eagerly  to  destruction  for  the  glory  and  in- 
terest of  a  few  ?  Shall  we  see  them  driven  back  in 
disorder  ?  Will  they  remain  lying  amid  the  mists 
of  the  Meuse,  or  will  they  return  to  place  their 
heel  upon  our  necks?" 

I  imagined  great  battles.  The  grandmother 
also  was  very  uneasy  ;  she  sat  by  the  window  and 
said: 

"  Listen,  Frederick,  do  you  hear  nothing?" 

And  I  listened ;  it  was  only  the  wind  among 
the  dry  leaves. 

Sometimes,  but  rarely,  the  city  seemed  to 
76 


Brigadier  Frederick 

awake ;  so  a  few  cannon  shots  thundered  amid  the 
echoes  from  Quatre  Vents  to  Mittelbroun  and 
then  all  was  silent  again.  The  idea  of  Metz  sus- 
tained us ;  it  was  from  there,  above  all,  that  we 
hoped  to  obtain  succour. 

I  have  nothing  more  to  tell  you  about  this 
autumn  of  1870;  no  news,  no  visits,  and  towards 
the  last  but  little  hope. 

But  I  must  tell  you  now  about  a  thing  that 
surprised  us  a  good  deal,  that  we  could  not  under- 
stand, and  which  unhappily  has  now  become  too 
clear  for  us,  like  many  other  things. 


XIV 


About  two  weeks  after  the  establishment  of 
Bismark  Bohlen  at  Hagenau,  we  saw  arrive  one 
morning  in  the  valley  a  vehicle  similar  to  those 
used  by  the  Germans  who  were  starting  for  Amer- 
ica before  the  invention  of  railroads — a  long  wagon, 
loaded  with  hundreds  of  old  traps,  straw  beds,  bed- 
steads, frying-pans,  lanterns,  etc.,  with  a  muddy 
dog  and  an  unkempt  wife  and  a  horde  of  scabby 
children,  and  the  master  himself  leading  his  sorry 
jade  by  the  bridle. 

We  looked  at  them  in  amazement,  thinking, 
77 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"  What  does  all  this  mean  ?    What  are  these  peo- 
ple coming  to  do  among  us  ?  " 

Under  the  cover  near  the  pole  the  woman, 
already  old,  yellow,  and  wrinkled,  her  cap  put  on 
Awry,  was  picking  the  heads  of  the  children,  who 
were  swarming  in  the  straw,  boys  and  girls,  all 
light-haired  and  chubby  and  pussy,  as  potato-eaters 
always  are. 

"  Wilhelm,  will  you  be  quiet  ? "  she  said. 
"Wait  till  I  take  a  look — wait,  I  see  something. 
Good,  I  have  it ;  you  can  tumble  about  now. 
Wilhelmina,  come  put  your  head  upon  my  knees ; 
each  must  take  their  turn ;  you  can  look  at  the 
pine  trees  later." 

And  the  father,  a  big  man,  in  a  bottle-green 
coat,  that  had  a  thousand  wrinkles  in  the  back ; 
his  cheeks  hanging,  his  little  nose  adorned  with 
a  pair  of  spectacles,  his  pantaloons  tucked  into 
his  boots,  and  a  big  porcelain  pipe  in  his  mouth, 
pulled  on  his  miserable  horse  by  the  bridle  and 
said  to  his  wife  : 

"  Herminia.  look  at  those  forests,  those  mead- 
ows, this  rich  Alsace.  We  are  in  the  terrestrial 
paradise." 

It  was  a  group  resembling  the  gipsies,  and,  as 
Merlin  came  to  see  us  that  day,  we  talked  of  noth- 
ing but  that  the  whole  evening. 

78 


Brigadier  Frederick 

But  we  were  destined  to  see  many  more  of 
them,  for  these  strangers,  in  old  cabriolets,  basket 
wagons,  ckars-a-banc,  and  two  or  four  wheeled  car- 
riages, put  into  requisition  along  the  road,  con- 
tinued to  pass  for  a  long  time.  From  the  first  of 
them,  the  remembrance  of  whom  has  remained  in 
my  mind,  the  train  was  never  ending  ;  there  passed 
daily  three,  four,  or  five  vehicles,  loaded  with  chil- 
dren, old  men,  young  women,  and  young  girls — 
the  last  gotten  up  in  an  odd  style,  with  dresses 
which,  it  seemed  to  me,  I  remembered  having  seen 
some  fifteen  or  twenty  years  before  upon  the  ladies 
of  Saverne,  and  with  wide  hats,  trimmed  with 
paper  roses,  set  i  pon  their  plaits,  just  three  hairs 
thick,  like  the  queues  of  our  grandfathers. 

These  people  talked  all  kinds  of  German  and 
were  hard  to  understand.  They  had  also  all  kinds 
of  faces :  some  broad  and  fat,  with  venerable 
beards ;  others  sharp  as  a  knife-blade,  and  with 
their  old  overcoats  buttoned  to  the  throat,  to  hide 
their  shirts ;  some  with  light  gray  eyes  and  stiff, 
shaggy,  red  whiskers ;  others  little,  round,  lively, 
going,  running,  and  wriggling  about;  but  all,  at 
the  sight  of  our  beautiful  valley,  uttering  cries  of 
admiration  and  lifting  up  their  hands,  men,  women, 
and  children,  as  we  are  told  the  Jews  did  on  enter- 
ing into  the  Promised  Land. 

79 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Thus  came  these  people  from  all  parts  of  Ger- 
many ;  they  had  taken  the  railroads  to  our  frontiers, 
but  all  our  lines  being  then  occupied  by  their 
troops  and  their  provision  and  ammunition  trains 
starting  from  Wissembourg  or  from  Soreltz,  they 
were  forced  to  travel  in  wagons,  after  the  Alsatian 
fashion. 

Sometimes  one  and  sometimes  another  would 
ask  us  the  way  to  Saverne,  Metting,  or  Lutzel- 
stein  ;  they  got  down  at  the  spring  below  the 
bridge  and  drank  from  one  of  their  pans  or  from 
the  hollow  of  their  hands. 

Every  day  these  passages  were  repeated,  and  I 
cudgelled  my  brain  to  find  out  what  these  foreign- 
ers were  coming  to  do  among  us  at  so  troubled  a 
time,  when  provisions  were  so  scarce  and  when  we 
did  not  know  to-day  what  we  should  have  to  eat 
the  morrow.  They  never  said  a  word,  but  went 
upon  their  way,  under  the  protection  of  the  land- 
wehr  which  filled  the  country.  We  have  since 
learned  that  they  shared  in  the  requisitions — a  fact 
which  permitted  them  to  save  money  and  even  to 
get  themselves  into  good  condition  on  the  road. 

George,  all  these  Bohemians  of  a  new  species, 
whose  miserable  air  filled  our  hearts  with  pity,  even 
in  the  midst  of  our  troubles,  were  the  functionaries 
which  Germany  sent  to  be  our  administrators  and 

80 


Brigadier  Frederick 

our  rulers,  preceptors,  controllers,  notaries,  school- 
masters, foresters,  etc.  They  were  persons  who, 
from  the  months  of  September  and  October,  long 
before  the  treaty  of  peace  was  signed,  arrived  tran- 
quilly to  take  the  place  of  our  own  people,  saying 
to  them,  without  ceremony,  "  Get  out  of  there,  so 
that  I  may  get  in." 

One  would  have  said  that  it  was  all  agreed 
upon  beforehand,  for  it  happened  so  even  before 
the  capitulation  of  Strasburg. 

How  many  poor  devils,  beer  barrels  or  schnaps 
drinkers,  who  had  been  whipping  the  devil  around 
the  stump  for  years  and  years  in  all  the  little  cities 
of  Pomerania,  of  Brandenburg,  and  further  still, 
who  never  would  have  become  anything  at  home, 
and  who  did  not  know  from  whom  to  ask  for 
credit  at  home  for  rye  bread  and  potatoes — how 
many  such  men  fell  then  upon  rich  Alsace,  that 
terrestrial  paradise,  promised  to  the  Germans  by 
their  kings,  their  professors,  and  their  school- 
masters ! 

At  the  time  of  which  I  speak  they  were  still 
modest,  notwithstanding  the  wonderful  victories 
of  their  armies ;  they  were  not  yet  sure  of  pre- 
serving that  extraordinary  good-fortune  to  the  end, 
and,  comparing  their  old  tattered  coats  and  their 
miserable  appearance  with  the  easy  fortune  of  the 

81 


Brigadier  Frederick 

least  of  the  functionaries  of  Alsace  and  of  Lor- 
raine, they  doubtless  said  to  themselves : 

"  It  cannot  be  possible  that  the  Lord  should 
have  chosen  scamps  like  us  to  fill  such  good  places. 
What  extraordinary  merit  have  we,  then,  to  play 
first  fiddle  in  a  country  such  as  this,  which  the 
French  have  occupied  for  two  hundred  years, 
which  they  have  cultivated,  planted,  and  enriched 
with  workshops  and  factories  and  improvements 
of  all  kinds  ?  Provided  that  they  do  not  return 
to  retake  it,  and  to  force  us  to  return  to  our 
schnaps  and  our  potatoes." 

Yes,  George,  with  a  little  common  sense  and 
justice,  these  intruders  must  have  reasoned  thus 
to  themselves  ;  a  sort  of  uneasiness  could  be  recog- 
nised in  their  eyes  and  in  their  smile.  But  once 
Strasburg  was  taken  and  Metz  given  up,  and  they 
comfortably  installed  in  large  and  fine  houses, 
which  they  had  not  built,  sleeping  in  the  good 
beds  of  prefects,  under-prefects,  judges,  and  other 
personages,  of  whom  they  had  never  even  had 
an  idea ;  after  having  imposed  taxes  upon  the 
good  lands  which  they  had  not  sowed,  and  laid 
hands  upon  the  registers  of  all  the  administrations, 
which  they  had  not  established,  seeing  the  money, 
the  good  money  of  rich  Alsace,  flowing  into  their 
coffers — then,  George,  they  believed  themselves 

82 


Brigadier  Frederick 

to  be  really  presidents  of  something,  inspectors, 
controllers,  receivers,  and  the  German  pride,  which 
they  know  so  well  how  to  hide  with  cringing  when 
they  are  not  the  stronger — that  brutal  pride  puffed 
out  their  cheeks. 

There  always  remained  to  them  during  the  time 
that  I  was  still  down  yonder  an  old  remembrance 
of  the  Lorempe*  Strasse  and  of  the  Speingler  Volk, 
where  they  had  formerly  lived.  That  remembrance 
made  them  very  economical ;  two  of  them  would 
order  a  mug  of  beer  and  pay  for  it  between  them  ; 
they  disputed  about  farthings  with  the  shoemaker 
and  the  tailor ;  they  found  something  to  find  fault 
with  in  every  bill,  crying  out  that  we  wanted  to 
cheat  them ;  and  the  poorest  cobbler  among  us 
would  have  been  ashamed  to  display  the  meanness 
of  these  new  functionaries,  who  promised  us  so 
many  benefits  in  the  name  of  the  German  fath- 
erland, and  who  showed  us  so  much  avarice  and 
even  abominable  meanness.  But  that  only  showed 
us  with  what  race  we  had  now  to  do. 


83 


Brigadier  Frederick 

XV 

One  day,  towards  the  end  of  October,  one  of 
the  gens-d'armes  of  Bismark  Bohlen,  who  passed 
every  morning  through  the  valley,  halted  at  the 
door  of  the  forest  house,  calling : 

"  Hillo,  somebody  ! "     I  went  out. 

"  You  are  the  Brigadier  Frederick  ?  "  asked  the 
man. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  "  my  name  is  Frederick, 
and  I  am  a  brigadier  forester." 

*  All  right,"  said  he,  holding  out  a  letter ;  "  here 
is  something  for  you." 

Then  he  trotted  off  to  join  his  comrade,  who 
was  waiting  for  him  a  little  farther  on.  I  entered 
the  house.  Marie-Rose  and  the  grandmother  were 
uneasy  ;  they  looked  on  in  silence  as  I  opened  the 
letter,  saying : 

11  What  can  those  Prussians  want  with  me?" 

It  was  an  order  from  the  Oberfdrster,*  estab- 
lished at  Zornstadt,  to  be  at  his  house  the  next 
day,  with  all  the  foresters  of  my  brigade.  I  read 
the  letter  aloud  and  the  women  were  frightened. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  father?"  asked 
Marie-Rose,  after  a  pause. 

"That  is  what  I  am  thinking  about,"  I  an- 

*  Chief  Inspector  of  the  forest. 
84 


Brigadier  Frederick 

swered ;  "these  Germans  have  no  right  to  give  me 
orders,  but  they  are  now  the  strongest ;  they  may 
turn  us  out  of  doors  any  day.  I  must  think  it 
over." 

I  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room,  feeling 
very  much  worried,  when  all  at  once  Jean  Merlin 
passed  rapidly  before  the  windows,  ascended  the 
steps  and  entered. 

"Good  morning,  Marie- Rose,"  said  he,  "good 
morning,  grandmother.  You  have  received  the 
order  from  the  Oberforster,  brigadier  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Ah!"  said  he,  "those  people  have  no  con- 
fidence in  us ;  all  the  foresters  have  received  the 
same  thing.     Shall  we  go  ? " 

"  We  must  see  about  it,"  I  said ;  "  you  must 
go  to  Petite  Pierre  and  ask  the  advice  of  our  in- 
spector." 

The  clock  was  striking  eight.  Jean  started  at 
once ;  at  twelve  o'clock  he  had  already  returned 
to  tell  us  that  M.  Laroche  wished  us  to  see  what 
the  Germans  wanted  with  us,  and  to  send  him  an 
account  of  it  as  soon  as  possible.  So  it  was  re- 
solved that  we  should  go. 

You  must  know,  George,  that  since  the  arrival 
of  the  Germans  the  forests  were  robbed  by  whole- 
sale ;  all  the  wood  still  in  cords  and  piled  in  the 

85 


Brigadier  Frederick 

clearings,  vanished,  fagot  by  fagot :  the  landwehr 
carried  off  all  that  was  within  their  reach ;  they  liked 
to  sit  by  a  good  fire  in  their  earthworks  before  the 
city.  The  peasants,  too,  helped  themselves  liber- 
ally, one  might  almost  say  that  the  property  of  the 
State  belonged  to  the  first-comer. 

I  told  my  guards  without  ceasing  to  watch  the 
culprits  closely,  that  the  wood  still  belonged  to 
France,  and  that  after  the  war  they  would  have  to 
account  for  it.  My  district  suffered  less  than  the 
others,  because  I  continued  to  make  my  rounds  as 
heretofore ;  people  always  respect  those  who  do 
their  duty. 

So  I  sent  Jean  to  tell  his  comrades  to  meet 
without  fail  the  next  day  at  the  forest  house,  wear- 
ing their  uniform,  but  without  badges,  and  that  we 
would  go  together  to  Zornstadt. 

The  next  day,  when  all  had  assembled,  we  took 
up  the  line  of  march,  and  about  one  o'clock  we 
arrived  in  the  vestibule  of  the  great  house,  wherein 
the  Oberforster  had  installed  himself  and  all  his 
family.  It  was  a  great  holiday  at  Zornstadt  for 
the  Prussians.  They  had  just  heard  of  the  capitu- 
lation of  Bazaine,  and  they  were  singing  in  all  the 
public  houses.  The  Oberftfrster  was  giving  a  ban- 
quet. Naturally  this  ill  news  made  our  hearts 
very  heavy.     The  other  brigades  had  already  met 

86 


Brigadier  Frederick 

at  the  door,  headed  by  the  brigadiers,  Charles 
Werner,  Jacob  Hepp,  and  Balthazar  Redig. 

After  having  shaken  hands,  it  was  decided 
that  we  should  listen  to  the  remarks  of  the  Ober- 
tester  in  silence,  and  that  I,  as  the  oldest  briga- 
dier, should  speak  for  all  if  there  was  anything  to 
reply.  We  still  waited  for  over  half  an  hour,  as 
the  banquet  was  not  yet  over ;  they  were  laughing 
and  joking,  playing  the  piano  and  singing  "  Die 
Wacht  am  Rhein."  In  spite  of  their  immense 
vanity,  these  people  had  not  expected  such  great 
victories,  and  I  think  that  if  we  had  had  other 
generals,  that,  in  spite  of  their  preparations  and 
their  superiority  in  numbers,  they  would  not  have 
had  the  opportunity  to  be  so  merry  at  our  ex- 
pense. 

At  last,  about  two  o'clock,  a  German  in  a  green 
felt  hat,  adorned  with  two  or  three  cock  feathers, 
with  a  joyous  air,  and  cheeks  scarlet  to  the  ears, 
for  he  had  just  left  the  kitchen,  came  and  opened 
the  door,  saying : 

11  You  may  come  in." 

After  traversing  a  long  room,  we  found  the 
Oberforster  alone,  seated  in  an  arm-chair  at  the 
end  of  a  long  table,  still  covered  with  dessert  and 
bottles  of  all  kinds,  with  a  red  face,  and  his  hands 
crossed  upon  his  stomach  with  an  air  of  satisfao- 

87 


Brigadier  Frederick 

tion.  He  was  a  handsome  man  in  his  jacket  of 
green  cloth  edged  with  marten  fur — yes,  George, 
I  will  confess  it,  a  very  handsome  man,  tall,  well- 
made,  a  square  head,  short  hair,  solid  jaws,  long 
red  mustaches  and  side  whiskers,  that,  so  to 
speak,  covered  his  shoulders.  Only  his  large  red 
nose,  covered  with  flowery  splotches,  astonished 
you  at  first  sight,  and  forced  you  to  turn  away 
your  eyes  out  of  respect  for  his  rank.  He  looked 
at  us  as  we  entered,  his  little  gray  eyes  screwed 
up  ;  and  when  we  had  all  gathered  round  the  table, 
cap  in  hand,  after  having  scrutinized  us  carefully, 
he  settled  his  waistcoat,  coughed  a  little,  and  said 
to  us,  with  an  air  of  deep  emotion  : 

"  You  are  good  people.  You  have  all  honest 
German  faces ;  that  pleases  me  !  Your  get-up  is 
very  good  also  ;  I  am  satisfied  with  you  ! " 

In  the  side  room  the  guests  were  laughing; 
this  forced  the  Oberforster  to  interrupt  himself : 

"Wilhelm,  shut  the  door!"  said  he  to  the 
servant  who  had  let  us  in.  The  waiter  obeyed, 
and  the  OberfOrster  continued  : 

"  Yes,  you  have  good  German  faces  !  When 
I  think  that  you  have  been  kept  for  so  many  years 
in  the  service  of  that  race  of  boasters,  it  makes  me 
angry.  But,  thanks  to  the  Almighty,  and  thanks 
also  to  the  armies  of  our  glorious  King  William, 

88 


Brigadier  Frederick 

the  hour  of  deliverance  has  arrived,  the  reign  of 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah  is  over.  We  will  no  longer 
see  honest  fathers  of  families  doing  their  duty  with 
loyalty  and  exactness,  and  preserving  the  property 
of  his  Majesty  ;  we  will  no  longer  see  such  people 
living  on  a  salary  A  five  or  six  hundred  francs,  while 
adventurers,  law-breakers,  gamblers,  people  swal- 
lowed up  in  vice,  award  themselves  forty  millions 
a  year  to  support  dancing  girls,  cooks,  and  toadies, 
and  to  declare  war  at  random  upon  pacific  neigh- 
bours, without  reason,  without  foresight,  without 
armies,  without  ammunition,  and  without  cannon, 
like  real  idiots !  No,  that  will  never  be  seen 
again  ;  old  Germany  is  opposed  to  it ! " 

Then  the  Oberforster,  satisfied  with  what  he 
had  just  said,  filled  his  glass  in  order  to  refresh  his 
ideas ;  he  drank  solemnly,  with  half-closed  eyes, 
and  continued  : 

" 1  have  sent  for  you  to  confirm  you  in  all  your 
situations ;  for  I  visited  the  forests,  I  saw  that  all 
was  in  order ;  I  saw  that  you  were  faithful  serv- 
ants ;  it  is  but  just  that  you  should  remain.  And 
I  announce  to  you  that  your  salaries  are  to  be 
doubled ;  that  old  servants,  instead  of  being  put 
on  the  retired  list,  shall  receive  promotion ;  that 
they  shall  enjoy  an  honest  competency  proportion- 
ate to  their  rank  ;  finally,  that  the  munificence  of 

89 


Brigadier  Frederick 

his  Majesty  will  extend  itself  to  you  all,  and  in 
your  old  age  you  will  bless  the  happy  annexation 
of  this  noble  land,  Alsace,  to  the  mother  country. 
You  will  relate  some  day  to  your  children  and 
grandchildren  the  story  of  this  long  captivity  in 
Babylon,  during  which  you  suffered  so  much,  and 
you  will  also  become  the  most  faithful  subjects  of 
his  Most  Gracious  Majesty,  the  King  of  Prussia. 
This  is  what  I  wish  !  Old  functionaries  like  you, 
honoured  and  respected  in  the  country  because  of 
the  faithfulness  of  their  services,  exercise  always  a 
great  influence  over  the  peasantry.  You  will  ex- 
press loudly  your  attachment  to  our  glorious  King 
William,  that  hearty  attachment  which  every  Ger- 
man feels.  Yes,  you  will  take  the  oath  of  allegi- 
ance to  his  Majesty  ;  and  as  to  the  rest,  as  to  the 
augmentation  of  your  salary,  I  give  you  my  word 
as  an  Oberforster  that  all  will  be  done  according 
to  the  promises  I  have  just  made  you." 

While  he  was  talking  he  did  not  cease  to  watch 
us ;  behind  us  were  two  or  three  tall  Germans  in 
uniform,  who  appeared  dazzled  and  touched  by  his 
discourse.  But  as  for  us  we  remained  cold,  cap  in 
hand ;  and  as  I  was  to  be  the  spokesman  they  all 
looked  at  me  to  see  what  I  thought. 

You  can  imagine,  George,  my  silent  indigna- 
tion to  see  that  they  called  us  good  servants,  hon- 

90 


Brigadier  Frederick 

est  people  in  order  to  make  traitors  of  us.  I  felt 
my  cheeks  getting  red  ;  I  would  have  liked  to  be 
able  to  answer  that  only  rascals  would  have  ac- 
cepted the  title  of  honest  men,  by  forfeiting  their 
honour ;  but  I  held  my  tongue,  not  wishing  to 
answer  for  my  comrades,  several  of  whom  had 
large  families  ;  the  responsibility  seemed  too  great. 

The  Oberforster  having  ended,  he  looked  at 
us  fixedly  ;  at  me  in  particular,  and  he  said  : 

"  Well !  you  may  speak ;  I  authorize  you  to 
speak." 

Then  I  answered  : 

"Sir,  as  the  oldest  forester  of  the  three  bri- 
gades, my  comrades  have  requested  me  to  speak 
for  them  all ;  but  the  proposition  that  you  have 
just  made  is  serious ;  I  think  that  every  one  will 
ask  for  time  to  think  it  over." 

They  all  nodded  assent ;  and  he,  who  was 
really  astonished,  for  he  had  doubtless  thought 
that  the  augmentation  of  the  salaries  would  decide 
everything,  remained  for  over  a  minute  with  his 
eyes  wide  open,  staring  at  me  as  if  I  were  some- 
thing extraordinary ;  then  he  did  as  much  for  the 
others,  and,  frowning,  he  said  gruffly  : 

"  I  give  you  twenty-four  hours  !  To-morrow 
at  this  time  I  want  to  have  your  written  reply, 
signed  by  each  of  you  ;  yes  or  no  !     Do  not  think 

9* 


Brigadier  Frederick 

that  there  is  any  lack  of  men,  there  are  plenty  in 
Germany,  good  people,  old  foresters,  who  know 
the  service  as  well  as  the  smartest  of  you,  who 
would  ask  nothing  better  than  to  come  into  this 
rich  Alsace,  where  everything  grows  so  abun- 
dantly, to  live  in  comfortable  houses  in  the  midst 
of  magnificent  forests,  having  nothing  to  do  but 
to  take  a  little  turn  in  the  neighbourhood  morn- 
ing and  evening,  to  draw  up  a  report,  and  to  re- 
ceive for  that  twelve  or  fifteen  hundred  francs  a 
year,  with  the  garden,  the  strip  of  meadow,  the 
pasture  for  the  cow,  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  No, 
do  not  think  that !  Hundreds  are  waiting  impa- 
tiently till  we  tell  them  to  come.  And  weigh 
well  your  answer ;  think  of  your  wives  and  your 
children  ;  beware  of  having  to  repent  bitterly  if 
you  say  no  !  France  is  completely  ruined,  she  is 
penniless ;  the  wretched  forests  that  are  left  her 
in  Brittany  and  the  Landes  are  nothing  but 
broom-sticks  ;  the  guards  of  these  thickets  will 
retain  their  places,  and  you  will  never  get  other 
situations.  You  are  Germans.  The  French  used 
you  and  despised  you ;  they  called  you  block- 
heads !  Think  over  all  this ;  it  is  the  advice  of 
an  honest  man  that  I  give  you,  of  a  German 
brother  and  the  father  of  a  family  ! " 

He  looked  at  me,  thinking  that  I  was  going 
92 


Brigadier  Frederick 

to  say  something ;  but  I  compressed  my  lips,  and 
I  felt  as  if  little  puffs  of  cold  wind  were  passing 
over  my  forehead.  All  my  companions  were  also 
silent.  At  one  side  behind  the  door  some  one 
was  playing  on  the  piano,  and  a  woman  was  sing- 
ing a  sweet  and  melancholy  little  song. 

"Twenty -four  hours,"  he  repeated,  rising; 
"not  another  minute."  And,  throwing  his  nap- 
kin on  the  table  angrily,  he  added : 

"  Remember,  too,  that  those  who  wish  to  an- 
swer no  can  pack  up  at  once  ;  the  highway  is  open 
to  them.  We  will  never  keep  enemies  among  us 
— dangerous  persons — that  would  be  too  stupid. 
We  are  not  Frenchmen." 

So  he  entered  the  next  room,  while  we  went 
out  by  the  vestibule. 

What  the  Oberforster  had  said  to  us,  "  that 
we  would  have  a  hard  time  getting  situations  in 
France,  and  that  the  Germans  would  force  us  to 
be  off  without  mercy,"  was  terrible ;  the  most 
courageous  hung  their  heads. 

Some  of  them,  very  pale,  were  thinking  of 
going  to  the  Fir  Tree  Inn  to  deliberate ;  they 
wanted,  above  all,  to  know  my  opinion;  but  I 
said,  stopping  before  the  door  of  the  inn  : 

"  From  this  time,  comrades,  let  us  economize 
all  the  little  money  that  we  have ;  five  sous  for  a 

93 


Brigadier  Frederick 

glass  of  wine  is  always  five  sous.  We  shall  prob- 
ably have  to  break  up  housekeeping,  and  at  these 
unhappy  times  everything  is  dear  ;  travelling  costs 
money  when  we  take  women,  children,  and  old 
men  with  us." 

Big  Kern  insisted  upon  knowing  what  I 
thought ;  several  of  them  gathered  around  me, 
so  I  finally  said  : 

"  See  here,  for  what  concerns  myself  I  know 
what  I  ought  to  do  ;  but  at  such  a  moment  as 
this  every  one  should  be  free  to  follow  his  own 
conscience  ;  I  shall  give  no  advice  to  any  one." 

And  seeing  poor  Jacob  Hepp,  the  father  of 
six  small  children,  standing  with  drooping  head, 
hanging  arms,  and  cast-down  eyes,  I  said : 

"  Come  !  Let  us  shake  hands  all  round  once 
more — for  the  last  time,  perhaps  !  May  the  old 
recollections  of  friendship  follow  us  wherever 
Heaven  may  conduct  us." 

Several  of  us  kissed  each  other,  and  at  that 
place  we  parted. 

XVI 

Jean  Merlin  and  I  took  the  road  to  Felsberg 
alone ;  I  do  not  know  what  the  others  did,  wheth- 
er they  entered  the  inn  or  returned  to  their  homes. 

94 


Brigadier  Frederick 

As  for  us,  so  many  ideas  were  passing  through 
our  heads  that  we  walked  on  for  a  long  while 
without  saying  a  word. 

On  leaving  Zornstadt,  we  ascended  the  hill  of 
Bruyeres  till  we  reached  the  plateau  of  Graufthal, 
and  suddenly  the  sun  pierced  the  clouds  and 
shone  upon  the  woods.  The  sun  was  very  bril- 
liant, and  showed  us  through  the  leafless  trees  in 
the  depths  of  the  valley  the  pretty  cottage  in 
which  I  had  passed  so  many  happy  days  since 
Father  Burat  had  given  me  his  daughter  in  mar- 
riage. 

I  stopped  short.  Jean,  who  was  following  me 
along  the  path,  also  halted ;  and,  leaning  on  our 
sticks,  we  looked  for  a  long  time  as  if  in  a  dream. 
All  the  by-gone  days  seemed  to  pass  before  my 
eyes. 

The  little  cottage,  on  this  clear,  cold  day, 
looked  as  if  it  were  painted  on  the  hillside,  in  the 
midst  of  the  tall  fir  trees ;  its  roof  of  gray  shin- 
gles, its  chimney,  from  which  curled  a  little 
smoke,  its  windows,  where  in  summer  Marie-Rose 
placed  her  pots  of  pinks  and  mignonette,  the 
trellis,  over  which  climbed  the  ivy,  the  shed  and 
its  worm-eaten  pillars — all  were  there  before  me, 
one  might  have  thought  it  possible  to  touch  them. 

When  I  saw  that  I  said  to  myself : 
95 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"  Look,  Frederick,  look  at  this  quiet  corner  of 
the  world,  wherein  thy  youth  has  passed,  and 
from  which  thou  must  go  away  gray-headed,  with- 
out knowing  where  to  turn ;  that  humble  dwell- 
ing wherein  thy  dear  wife  Catherine  gave  thee 
several  children,  some  of  whom  lie  beside  her  in 
the  earth  at  Dosenheim.  Look !  and  remember 
how  calmly  thy  life  has  glided  away  in  the  midst 
of  worthy  people  who  called  thee  good  son,  kind 
father,  and  honest  man,  and  prayed  God  to  load 
thee  with  blessings.  What  good  does  it  do  thee 
now  to  have  been  a  good  father  and  a  dutiful  son, 
to  have  always  done  thy  duty  honestly,  since  they 
drive  thee  away,  and  not  a  soul  can  intercede  for 
thee?  The  Germans  are  the  strongest,  and 
strength  is  worth  more  than  the  right  established 
by  God  himself." 

I  trembled  at  having  dared  to  raise  my  re- 
proaches to  the  Almighty,  but  my  grief  was  too 
deep,  and  the  iniquity  appeared  to  me  to  be  too 
great.  May  Heaven  forgive  me  for  having 
doubted  of  His  goodness. 

As  to  the  rest  my  resolution  was  taken ;  I 
would  rather  a  thousand  times  have  died  than 
have  committed  so  base  an  action.  And,  looking 
at  Merlin,  who  was  leaning  gloomily  against  a 
birch  tree  near  me,  I  said  : 

96 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"  I  am  looking  at  my  old  abode  for  the  last 
time ;  to-morrow  the  Oberforster  will  receive  my 
answer,  and  day  after  to-morrow  the  furniture  will 
be  piled  upon  the  cart.  Tell  me  now  what  do 
you  mean  to  do  ?  " 

Then  he  flushed  scarlet  and  said :  "  Oh !  Fa- 
ther Frederick,  can  you  ask  me  that  ?  You  pain 
me  by  doing  so.  Do  you  not  know  what  I  will 
do  ?  I  will  do  like  you  ;  there  are  not  two  ways 
of  being  an  honest  man." 

"That  is  right— I  knew  it,"  I  said;  "but  I 
am  very  glad  to  have  heard  you  say  so.  Every- 
thing must  be  clear  between  us.  We  are  not  like 
Germans,  who  chase  the  devil  round  the  stump, 
and  think  that  everything  is  right,  provided  it 
succeeds.  Come,  let  us  walk  on,  Jean,  and  keep 
up  your  courage." 


XVII 


We  began  to  descend  the  hill,  and  I  confess 
to  you,  George,  that  when  I  approached  the  house 
and  thought  of  how  I  should  have  to  announce 
the  terrible  news  to  my  daughter  and  the  grand- 
mother, my  legs  trembled  under  me. 

At  last  we  reached  the  threshold.  Jean  en- 
97 


Brigadier  Frederick 

tered  first ;  I  followed  him  and  closed  the  door. 
It  was  about  four  o'clock.  Marie-Rose  was  peel- 
ing potatoes  for  supper,  and  the  grandmother, 
seated  in  her  arm-chair  by  the  stove,  was  listening 
to  the  crackling  of  the  fire,  as  she  had  done  for 
years  past. 

Imagine  our  position.  How  could  we  man- 
age to  tell  them  that  the  Germans  were  going  to 
turn  us  out  of  doors  ?  But  the  poor  women  had 
only  to  look  at  us  to  understand  that  something 
very  serious  had  happened. 

After  having  put  my  stick  in  the  corner  by  the 
clock,  and  hung  my  cap  on  the  nail,  I  walked  up 
and  down  the  room  several  times ;  then,  as  I  had 
to  commence  somehow,  I  began  to.  relate  in  detail 
the  propositions  that  the  OberfOrster  had  made 
to  us  to  enter  the  service  of  the  King  of  Prus- 
sia. I  did  not  hurry  myself ;  I  told  everything 
clearly,  without  adding  or  suppressing  anything, 
wishing  that  the  poor  creatures  might  also  have 
the  liberty  of  choosing  between  poverty  and  shame. 

I  was  sure  that  they  would  choose  poverty. 
Marie-Rose,  deadly  pale,  lifted  her  hands  to  Heaven, 
murmuring : 

"  My  God !  is  it  possible  ?  Do  such  rascals 
exist  in  the  world  ?  Ah  !  I  would  rather  die  than 
join  such  a  company  of  wretches ! " 

98 


Brigadier  Frederick 

It  pleased  me  to  see  that  my  daughter  had  a 
brave  heart,  and  Jean  Merlin  was  so  touched  that 
I  saw  his  lip  quiver. 

The  grandmother  seemed  to  wake  up  like  a 
snail  in  its  shell ;  her  chin  trembled,  her  dull  eyes 
sparkled  with  anger ;  I  was  surprised  at  it  myself. 
And  when  I  went  on  to  say  that  the  OberfOrster, 
if  we  refused  to  serve  Prussia,  gave  us  twenty-four 
hours  to  leave  our  home,  her  indignation  burst 
forth  all  at  once. 

"  To  quit  the  house  ?  M  said  she,  lifting  her  bent 
form,  "  but  this  house  is  mine !  I  was  born  in 
this  house  more  than  eighty  years  ago,  and  I  have 
never  left  it.  It  was  my  grandfather,  Laurent 
Duch6ne,  who  first  lived  here,  more  than  a  hun- 
dred and  thirty  years  ago,  and  who  planted  the  fruit 
trees  on  the  hill ;  it  was  my  father,  Jacquemin, 
who  first  marked  out  the  road  to  Dosenheim  and 
the  paths  of  Tomenthal ;  it  was  my  husband, 
George  Burat,  and  my  son-in-law  Frederick  here, 
who  sowed  the  first  seeds  of  the  beech  trees  and 
firs,  whose  forests  now  extend  over  the  two  valleys ; 
and  all  of  us,  from  father  to  son,  we  have  lived 
quietly  in  this  house  ;  we  have  earned  it ;  we  have 
surrounded  the  garden  with  hedges  and  palisades ; 
every  tree  in  the  orchard  belongs  to  us ;  we  saved 
up  money  to  buy  the  meadows,  to  build  the  barn 


ol.  II 


Brigadier  Frederick 

and  the  stables.  Drive  us  away  from  this  house  ? 
Ah  !  the  wretches  !  Those  are  German  ideas  ! 
Well,  let  them  come !  I,  Anne  Burat,  will  have 
something  to  say  to  them  ! " 

I  could  not  calm  the  poor  old  grandmother; 
all  that  she  said  was  just ;  but  with  people  who 
believe  that  strength  is  everything,  and  that  shame 
and  injustice  are  nothing,  what  is  the  use  of  talk- 
ing so  much  ? 

When  she  sat  down  again,  all  out  of  breath,  I 
asked  her,  in  a  very  sad  but  firm  voice : 

"  Grandmother,  do  you  wish  me  to  accept  serv- 
ice with  the  Germans  ?  " 

■  No  ! "  said  she. 

"Then  within  forty-eight  hours  we  must  all 
leave  together  this  old  house." 

II  Never  ! "  she  cried.     "  I  will  not ! " 

"  And  I  tell  you  it  must  be,"  said  I,  with  an 
aching  heart.     "  I  will  have  it  so." 

11  Ah  ! "  she  cried,  with  painful  surprise. 

And  I  continued,  with  anguish  : 

"  You  know,  grandmother,  that  I  have  always 
had  the  greatest  respect  for  you.  May  those  Ger- 
mans be  a  thousand  times  accursed  for  having 
forced  me  to  be  disrespectful  to  you  ;  I  hate  them 
still  more  for  it,  if  possible  !  But  do  you  not  un- 
derstand, grandmother,  that  those  brutes  are  with- 

ioo 


Brigadier  Frederick 

out  shame,  without  honour,  without  pity  even  for 
old  age,  and  if  they  encountered  the  slightest  resist- 
ance they  would  drag  you  out  by  your  gray  hair  ? 
You  are  weak  and  they  are  strong,  and  that  is 
enough  for  them  !  Do  you  not  understand  that  if 
I  saw  such  a  spectacle  I  would  throw  myself  upon 
them,  even  if  they  were  a  regiment,  and  that  they 
would  kill  me  ?  Then  what  would  become  of  you 
and  my  daughter  ?  That  is  what  we  must  think 
of,  grandmother.  Forgive  me  for  having  spoken 
so  harshly  to  you,  but  I  do  not  wish  for  a  minute's 
grace,  nor,  I  am  sure,  do  you ;  beside,  they  would 
not  let  us  have  it,  for  they  are  pitiless  people  ! " 
She  burst  into  tears  and  sobbed  out : 
"  Oh !  my  God !  my  God  !  to  have  to  leave 
this  house,  where  I  hoped  to  see  my  grand-daugh- 
ter happy  and  to  nurse  my  great-grandchildren ! 
My  God  !  why  did  you  not  call  me  away  sooner  ?" 
She  wept  so  bitterly  that  it  touched  our  hearts, 
and  all  of  us,  with  bowed  heads,  felt  the  tears 
trickle  down  our  cheeks.  How  many  recollec- 
tions came  to  us  all !  But  the  poor  grandmother 
had  more  than  any  of  us,  having  never  quitted  the 
valley  for  so  many  years,  except  to  go  two  or  three 
times  a  year  to  market  at  Saverne  or  Phalsbourg ; 
those  were  her  longest  journeys. 


101 


Brigadier  Frederick 

XVIII 

At  last  the  blow  was  struck.  Cruel  necessity, 
George,  had  spoken  by  my  lips ;  the  women  had 
understood  that  we  must  go  away,  perhaps  never 
to  return  ;  that  nothing  could  prevent  this  fearful 
misfortune. 

That  was  done  ;  but  another  duty,  still  more 
painful,  remained  to  fulfil.  When  the  lamenta- 
tions had  ceased,  and  we  were  meditating,  mute 
and  overwhelmed,  raising  up  my  voice  anew,  I 
said  : 

"  Jean  Merlin,  you  asked  me  last  summer  for 
my  daughter  in  marriage,  and  I  accepted  you  to 
be  my  sort,  because  I  knew  you,  I  liked  you,  and 
I  esteemed  you  as  much  as  the  greatest  man  in 
the  country.  So  it  was  settled  ;  our  promises  had 
been  given,  we  wanted  nothing  more  !  But  then 
I  was  a  brigadier  forester,  I  was  about  to  receive 
my  pension,  and  my  post  was  promised  to  you. 
Without  being  rich,  I  had  a  little  property ;  my 
daughter  might  be  considered  a  good  match.  Now 
I  am  nobody  any  more ;  to  tell  the  truth,  I  am 
even  a  poor  man.  The  old  furniture  I  possess 
suits  this  house  ;  if  it  were  taken  with  us  it  would 
be  in  the  way  ;  the  meadow,  for  which  I  paid  fif- 
teen hundred  francs  from  my  savings,  also  because 

1 02 


Brigadier  Frederick 

it  was  convenient  to  the  forest  house,  will  be  worth 
little  more  than  half  when  it  has  to  be  sold  over 
again.  Beside,  perhaps  the  Germans  will  declare 
that  all  real  estate  belongs  to  them.  It  depends 
only  upon  themselves,  since  the  strongest  are  al- 
ways in  the  right !  You,  too,  will  find  yourself 
without  a  situation ;  you  will  be  obliged  to  sup- 
port your  old  mother.  The  maintenance  of  a  wife 
in  the  midst  of  all  this  poverty  may  appear  very 
troublesome.  Therefore,  Jean,  my  honour  and 
that  of  my  daughter  oblige  me  to  release  you  from 
your  promise.  Things  are  no  longer  as  they  were ; 
Marie-Rose  has  nothing,  and  I  can  understand  that 
an  honest  man,  on  such  a  grave  situation,  might 
change  his  mind." 

Merlin  turned  pale  as  he  listened  to  me,  and 
he  answered,  in  a  gruff  voice  : 

"  I  asked  for  Marie-Rose  for  her  own  sake, 
Father  Frederick,  because  I  loved  her,  and  she 
also  loved  me.  I  did  not  ask  for  her  for  the  sake 
of  your  place,  nor  yet  for  the  sake  of  the  money 
she  might  have ;  if  I  had  thought  of  such  a  thing, 
I  would  have  been  a  scoundrel.  And  now  I  love 
her  more  than  ever,  for  I  have  seen  that  she  has  a 
noble  heart,  which  is  above  everything." 

And,  rising  and  opening  his  arms,  he  cried: 
"  Marie-Rose!" 

103 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Scarcely  had  he  called  her,  when  she  turned, 
her  face  bathed  in  tears,  and  threw  herself  into  his 
arms.  They  remained  clasped  in  a  close  embrace 
for  some  time,  and  I  thought  to  myself : 

"  All  is  well ;  my  daughter  is  in  the  hands  of 
an  honest  man  ;  that  is  my  greatest  consolation  in 
the  midst  of  all  my  misfortunes." 

After  that,  George,  in  spite  of  our  grief,  we 
grew  calm  again.  Merlin  and  I  agreed  that  he 
would  go  the  next  day  to  carry  our  answer  to 
Zornstadt :  "  No,  Oberforster,  we  will  not  enter 
the  service  of  the  King  of  Prussia  ! "  I  wrote  my 
letter  at  once  and  he  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

It  was  also  agreed  that  I  should  go  early  to 
Graufthal,  and  try  to  find  lodgings  for  ourselves, 
wherein  we  could  place  our  furniture.  The  three 
first-floor  rooms  belonging  to  Father  Ykel,  the 
host  of  the  Cup  Inn,  had  been  empty  ever  since 
the  invasion,  as  not  a  traveller  came  to  the  coun- 
try. There  must  certainly  be  room  in  his  stable, 
too  ;  so  I  hoped  to  hire  them  cheap. 

As  to  Merlin,  he  had  still  to  tell  his  mother, 
and  he  said  to  us  that  she  would  go  to  Felsberg, 
where  Uncle  Daniel  would  be  very  glad  to  receive 
her.  The  old  schoolmaster  and  his  sister  had  kept 
house  together  for  a  long  time,  and  it  was  only 
after  Jean  Merlin's  installation  in  the  forester's 

104 


Brigadier  Frederick 

house  at  Tomenthal  that  he  had  taken  his  mother 
to  live  with  him.  Good  old  Margredel  had  noth- 
ing to  do  but  to  return  to  the  village,  where  her 
little  house  was  waiting  for  her.  So  our  final  reso- 
lutions were  taken. 

Jean  also  took  upon  himself  to  go  and  tell  M. 
Laroche  of  what  had  occurred,  and  to  say  also  that 
I  would  come  and  see  him  after  our  flitting.  Then 
he  kissed  Marie- Rose,  said  a  few  encouraging 
words  to  the  grandmother,  and  went  out.  I  went 
with  him  as  far  as  the  threshold  and  shook  hands. 
The  night  had  come  ;  it  was  freezing  cold  ;  every 
blade  of  grass  in  the  valley  was  sparkling  with 
frost,  and  the  sky  was  glittering  with  stars.  What 
weather  in  which  to  leave  our  home  and  to  seek 
another  shelter ! 

As  I  returned  to  the  room,  I  saw  poor  Calas 
empty  the  saucepan  of  potatoes  on  the  table  and 
place  the  two  pots  of  clotted  milk  beside  the  salad- 
bowl,  looking  at  us  with  an  amazed  air;  no  one 
stirred. 

"Sit  down,  Calas,"  I  said;  "eat  alone;  none 
of  us  are  hungry  this  evening." 

So  he  sat  down  and  began  to  peel  his  potatoes  ; 
having  cleaned  out  the  stable  and  given  forage  to 
the  cattle,  he  had  done  his  duty  and  his  conscience 
was  easy. 

105 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Happy  are  those  who  cannot  see  the  morrow, 
and  whom  the  Almighty  only  governs,  without 
kings,  without  emperors,  and  without  ministers. 
They  have  not  one-quarter  of  our  sorrows.  The 
squirrel,  the  hare,  the  fox,  all  the  animals  of  the 
woods  and  the  plains,  receive  their  new  fur  at  the 
beginning  of  winter ;  the  birds  of  the  air  receive 
finer  down ;  those  who  cannot  live  in  the  snow, 
for  lack  of  insects  to  feed  them,  have  strong  wings, 
that  enable  them  to  seek  a  warmer  climate. 

It  is  only  man  who  receives  nothing  !  Neither 
his  labour,  nor  his  foresight,  nor  his  courage  can 
preserve  him  from  misfortune ;  his  fellow  beings 
are  often  his  worst  enemies  and  his  old  age  is  often 
the  extreme  of  misery.  Such  is  our  share  of  ex- 
istence. 

Some  people  would  like  to  change  these  things, 
but  no  one  has  the  courage  and  the  good  sense 
which  are  necessary. 

Finally,  at  nightfall  we  separated,  to  think 
over,  each  alone  in  his  corner,  the  terrible  blow 
that  had  overwhelmed  us. 


106 


Brigadier  Frederick 
XIX 

On  the  following  day,  which  was  the  first  of 
November,  at  dawn,  I  set  out  for  Graufthal.  I 
had  put  on  my  blouse,  my  thick  shoes,  and  my  felt 
hat.  The  trees  along  the  roadside  were  bending 
under  their  covering  of  frost ;  occasionally  a  black- 
bird or  a  thrush  would  rise  from  under  the  white 
brushwood,  uttering  its  cry,  as  if  to  bid  me  fare- 
well. I  have  often  thought  of  it  since  ;  I  was  on 
the  path  of  exile,  George  ;  it  was  only  beginning, 
and  extended  very  far. 

Towards  seven  o'clock  I  arrived  under  the  large 
rocks,  where  the  most  wretched  huts  in  the  village 
were  situated — the  others  were  built  along  the 
banks  of  the  river — and  I  stopped  before  that  of 
Father  Ykel.  I  went  through  the  kitchen  into 
the  smoky  little  parlour  of  the  inn.  -  Nothing  was 
stirring ;  I  thought  I  was  alone  and  I  was  about 
to  call,  when  I  saw  Ykel,  sitting  behind  the  stove, 
his  short  black  pipe,  with  a  copper  cover,  between 
his  teeth,  and  his  cotton  cap  pushed  over  one  ear ; 
he  did  not  move,  as  he  had  had,  a  few  weeks  be- 
fore, an  attack  of  rheumatism,  brought  on  by  his 
long  fishing  excursions  among  the  mountain 
streams,  and  also  at  night  by  torchlight,  amid  the 
mists. 

107 


Brigadier  Frederick 

The  valley  had  never  known  such  a  fisher ;  he 
sold  crawfish  and  trout  to  the  great  hotels  of 
Strasbourg.  Unhappily,  as  we  all  have  to  pay 
for  our  imprudences,  sooner  or  later,  he  had  been 
attacked  by  the  rheumatism,  and  now  all  he  could 
do  was  to  sit  and  think  about  the  best  places  in 
the  river  and  the  great  hauls  he  used  to  make. 

When  I  discovered  him,  his  little  green  eyes 
were  already  fixed  upon  me. 

"Is  it  you,  Father  Frederick ? "  he  said. 
"What  is  your  business  here  among  these  ras- 
cals who  are  robbing  us?  If  I  were  you,  I  would 
stay  quietly  in  the  forest ;  the  wolves  are  much 
better  neighbours." 

"We  cannot  always  do  as  we  like,"  I  an- 
swered. "Are  your  three  upper  rooms  still 
empty,  and  have  you  room  enough  in  your 
stable  for  two  cows  ?  " 

"  Haven't  I,  though !"  he  cried.  "  The  Prus- 
sians have  made  room  !  They  have  taken  every- 
thing— straw,  hay,  oats,  flour,  and  the  cattle.  Ah  ! 
room ;  I  guess  so ;  from  the  garret  to  the  cellar, 
we  have  plenty ;  it  will  not  run  out  for  a  long 
time!" 

And  he  uttered  a  harsh  laugh,  gnashing  his 
old  teeth  and  muttering  : 

"  Oh  !  the  wretches  !  God  grant  that  we  may 
1 08 


Brigadier  Frederick 

one  day  have  the  upper  hand ;  I  would  go  there 
on  crutches,  in  spite  of  my  rheumatism,  to  get 
back  what  they  took  from  me  ! " 

"  Then,"  said  I,  "  the  rooms  are  empty  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  the  stable,  too,  with  the  hayloft. 
But  why  do  you  ask  me  that  ?  " 

"  Because  I  have  come  to  hire  them." 

"  You  !  "  cried  he,  in  amazement.  "  Then  you 
are  not  going  to  stay  at  the  forest  house  ?  " 

"  No,  the  Prussians  have  turned  me  out." 

"  Turned  you  out !     And  why  ?  " 

11  Because  I  did  not  choose  to  serve  under  the 
Germans." 

Then  Ykel  appeared  touched  ;  his  long  hooked 
nose  curved  itself  over  his  mouth,  and,  in  a  grave 
voice,  he  said  : 

"  I  always  thought  you  were  an  honest  man. 
You  were  a  little  severe  in  the  service,  but  you 
were  always  just ;  no  one  has  ever  been  able  to 
say  anything  to  the  contrary." 

Then  he  called  : 

"Katel!  Katel!" 

And  his  daughter,  who  had  just  lighted  the  fire 
on  the  hearth,  entered. 

"  Look  here,  Katel,"  said  he,  pointing  to  me ; 
"  here  is  Father  Frederick,  whom  the  Prussians 
have  turned  out  of  his  house,  with  his  daughter 

109 


Brigadier  Frederick 

and  grandmother,  because  he  will  not  join  their 
band.  That  is  a  thousand  times  worse  than  the 
requisitions ;  it  is  enough  to  make  one's  hair  stand 
on  end." 

His  daughter  also  sided  with  us,  crying  that 
the  heavens  ought  to  fall  to  crush  such  rascals. 
She  took  me  up-stairs,  climbing  the  ladder-like 
stairs  to  show  me  the  rooms  that  I  wished  to 
hire. 

You  cannot  imagine  anything  more  wretched ; 
you  could  touch  the  beams  of  the  ceiling  with 
your  hand ;  the  narrow  windows,  with  lead-framed 
casements,  in  the  shadow  of  the  rocks,  gave  scarce- 
ly a  ray  of  light. 

How  different  from  our  pretty  cottage,  so  well 
lighted,  on  the  slope  of  the  hill !  Yes,  it  was 
very  gloomy,  but  we  had  no  choice  ;  we  had  to 
lodge  somewhere. 

I  told  Katel  to  make  a  small  fire  in  the  large 
room,  so  as  to  drive  away  the  damp ;  then,  going 
down-stairs  again,  Father  Ykel  and  I  agreed  that 
I  should  have  the  first  floor  of  his  house,  two 
places  in  the  stable  for  my  cows,  the  little  hayloft 
above,  with  a  pig-sty,  one  corner  of  the  cellar  for 
my  potatoes,  and  half  the  shed,  where  I  intended 
to  put  the  furniture  that  would  not  go  into  the 
rooms,  at  a  rent  of  eight  francs  a  month — a  pretty 

no 


Brigadier  Frederick 

large  sum  at  a  time  when  no  one  was  making  a 
centime. 

Two  or  three  neighbours,  the  big  coal  man, 
Starck,  and  his  wife ;  Sophie,  the  basket-maker ; 
Koffel,  and  Hulot,  the  old  smuggler,  were  then 
arriving  at  the  inn,  to  take  their  glass  of  brandy, 
as  usual.  Ykel  told  them  of  the  new  abomina- 
tions of  the  Germans ;  and  they  were  disgusted 
at  them.  Starck  offered  to  come  with  his  cart 
and  horses  to  help  me  to  move,  and  I  accepted, 
thankfully. 

Things  were  settled  that  way ;  Starck  prom- 
ised me  again  to  come  without  fail  before  noon ; 
after  which  I  took  the  road  towards  home.  It  had 
begun  to  snow ;  not  a  soul  before  or  behind  me 
was  on  the  path,  and,  about  nine  o'clock,  I  was 
stamping  my  feet  in  the  entry  to  get  off  the  snow. 

Marie-Rose  was  there.  I  told  her  briefly  that 
I  had  engaged  our  lodgings,  that  she  must  pre- 
pare the  grandmother  to  leave  very  soon,  to  empty 
the  contents  of  the  cupboards  into  baskets,  and 
to  take  the  furniture  to  pieces.  I  called  Calas 
to  help  me  and  went  to  work  at  once,  scarcely 
taking  time  enough  to  breakfast.  The  hammer 
resounded  through  the  house  ;  we  heard  the  grand- 
mother sobbing  in  the  smaller  room  and  Marie- 
Rose  trying  to  console  her. 

III 


Brigadier  Frederick 

It  all  seems  to  come  back  to  me.  It  was  ter- 
rible to"  hear  the  lamentations  of  the  poor  old 
woman,  to  hear  her  complain  of  the  fate  that 
overwhelmed  her  in  her  old  age,  and  then  to  call 
on  her  husband  for  aid,  good  Father  Burat,  who 
had  died  ten  years  before,  and  all  the  old  people, 
whose  bones  lay  in  the  cemetery  at  Dosenheim. 
It  makes  me  shudder  when  I  think  of  it,  and  the 
kind  words  of  my  daughter  come  back  to  me  and 
touch  my  heart  anew. 

The  hammer  did  its  work  ;  the  furniture,  the 
little  looking-glass  by  Catherine's  bed — my  poor 
dead  wife — the  portraits  of  the  grandfather  and 
grandmother,  painted  by  Ricard,  the  same  who 
painted  the  beautiful  signs  in  the  time  of  Charles 
X  ;  the  two  holy-water  vessels  and  the  old  crucifix, 
from  the  back  of  the  alcove  ;  the  chest  of  drawers 
belonging  to  Marie-Rose,  and  the  large  walnut- 
wood  wardrobe  that  had  come  down  to  us  from 
great-grandfather  Duchene  ;  all  those  old  things 
that  reminded  us  of  people  long  dead,  and  of  our 
quiet,  peaceful  life,  and  which,  for  many  years, 
had  had  their  places,  so  that  we  could  find  them 
by  groping  in  the  darkest  night ;  everything  was 
taken  away ;  it  was,  so  to  speak,  our  existence 
that  we  had  to  undo  with  our  own  hands ! 

And  Ragot,  who  came  and  went,  all  aston- 
112 


Brigadier  Frederick 

ished  at  the  confusion ;  Calas,  who  kept  asking, 
"  What  have  we  done,  to  be  obliged  to  run  away 
like  thieves  ?  "  And  the  rest ! — for  I  do  not  re- 
member it  at  all,  George  !  I  would  even  like  to 
forget  it  all,  and  never  to  have  begun  this  story  of 
the  shame  of  humanity  and  the  humiliation  of 
that  sort  of  Christians  who  reduce  their  fellow 
creatures  to  utter  misery,  because  they  will  not 
kneel  before  their  pride.  However,  since  we  have 
begun  it,  let  us  go  on  to  the  end. 

All  that  was  nothing  as  yet.  It  was  when  big 
Starck  came,  and  the  furniture  was  loaded  on  his 
wagon,  we  had  at  last  to  tell  the  grandmother  to 
leave  her  little  room,  and  when,  seeing  all  that 
desolation  in  the  road,  she  fell  on  her  face,  crying  : 

"  Frederick,  Frederick,  kill  me !  let  me  die, 
but  do  not  take  me  away  !  Let  me,  at  least, 
sleep  quietly  under  the  snow  in  our  little  gar- 
den ! " 

Then,  George,  I  wished  that  I  were  dead  my- 
self. The  blood  seemed  curdling  in  my  veins. 
And  now,  after  four  years,  I  would  be  puzzled  to 
tell  you  how  the  grandmother  found  herself  placed 
in  the  cart,  in  the  midst  of  the  mattresses  and 
straw  beds,  under  the  thousands  of  snow-flakes 
that  were  falling  from  the  sky. 


113 


Brigadier  Frederick 

XX 

The  snow,  which  had  continued  to  fall  since 
morning,  was  by  this  time  quite  deep.  The  great 
wagon  went  slowly  on  its  way,  Starck,  in  front, 
pulling  his  nags  by  the  bridle,  swearing,  and  for- 
cing them  to  advance  by  blows  ;  Calas,  farther  on, 
was  driving  along  the  pigs  and  cows ;  Ragot  was 
helping  him ;  Marie-Rose  and  I  followed,  with 
drooping  heads;  and  behind  us  the  cottage,  all 
white  with  snow,  among  the  firs,  was  gradually 
vanishing  in  the  distance. 

We  had  still  our  potatoes,  wood,  and  fodder 
to  take  away  the  next  day,  so  I  closed  the  door 
and  put  the  key  in  my  pocket  before  leaving. 

At  nightfall  we  arrived  before  Ykel's  house. 
I  took  the  grandmother  in  my  arms,  like  a  child, 
and  carried  her  up-stairs  to  her  room,  where  Katel 
had  kindled  a  bright  fire.  Marie-Rose  and  Katel 
kissed  each  other ;  they  had  been  schoolmates  and 
had  been  confirmed  together  at  Felsberg.  Katel 
burst  into  tears.  Marie-Rose,  who  was  deadly 
pale,  said  nothing.  They  went  up-stairs  together, 
and,  while  Starck  and  Calas  and  two  or  three  of 
the  neighbours  were  unloading  the  furniture  and 
putting  it  under  the  shed,  I  went  into  the  parlour, 
to  sit  down  for  a  few  minutes  behind  the  stove 

114 


Brigadier  Frederick 

and  to  take  a  glass  of  wine,  for  I  could  not  stand 
it  any  longer  ;  I  was  exhausted. 

Our  first  night  at  Graufthal,  in  that  loft, 
through  which  poured  the  draught  from  the  gar- 
ret, is  the  saddest  that  I  can  remember ;  the  stove 
smoked,  the  grandmother  coughed  in  her  bed ; 
Marie- Rose,  in  spite  of  the  cold,  got  up  to  give 
her  a  drink ;  the  little  window-panes  rattled  at 
every  blast  of  the  wind,  and  the  snow  drifted  in 
upon  the  floor. 

Ah  !  yes,  we  suffered  terribly  that  first  night ! 
And,  not  being  able  to  close  my  eyes,  I  said  to 
myself : 

"  It  will  be  impossible  to  live  here !  We 
should  all  be  dead  in  less  than  two  weeks.  We 
must  positively  go  somewhere  else.  But  where 
shall  we  go  ?    What  road  can  we  take  ?  " 

All  the  villages  of  Alsace  and  Lorraine  were 
filled  with  Germans,  the  roads  were  crowded  with 
cannon  and  convoys ;  not  a  hut,  not  even  a  stable 
was  free. 

These  ideas  almost  made  my  hair  turn  gray ; 
I  wished  that  I  had  broken  my  neck  in  coming 
down  the  steps  of  the  forest  house,  and  I  wished 
the  same  thing  for  the  grandmother  and  my 
daughter. 

Happily,  Jean  Merlin  arrived  early  the  next 
115 


Brigadier  Frederick 

morning.  He  had  taken  our  answer  to  the  Ober- 
forster,  he  had  moved  his  furniture  to  Felsberg, 
and  old  Margredel,  his  mother,  was  already  sitting 
quietly  beside  the  fire  at  Uncle  Daniel's  house. 

He  told  us  that  with  a  good-humoured  air, 
after  having  kissed  Marie-Rose  and  said  good- 
morning  to  the  grandmother. 

Only  to  see  how  his  confidence  had  already 
lightened  my  heart ;  and  when  I  complained  of 
the  cold,  the  smoke,  and  of  our  bad  night,  he 
cried  : 

11  Yes !  I  understand  all  that,  brigadier ;  I 
thought  as  much ;  so  I  hurried  to  come  here. 
It  is  very  hard  to  leave  your  old  ways  and  come 
to  live  among  strangers  at  your  age ;  that  par- 
alyzes one's  arm.  Such  occasions  change  one's 
ideas.  Here  is  the  key  of  my  cottage  and  the 
book  of  estimations  ;  you  have  also  your  regis- 
ter and  the  stamping  hammer.  Well,  do  you 
know  what  I  would  do  in  your  place  ?  I  would 
take  everything  to  our  chief  inspector,  because 
the  Oberforster  of  Zornstadt  might  ask  you  for 
them  and  force  you  to  give  them  up.  When  they 
are  deposited  with  M.  Laroche  no  one  will  have 
anything  more  to  say  to  you.  While  you  are 
away  Marie-Rose  will  wash  the  windows  and  the 
floor ;  Calas  will  go  with  Starck  to  get  the  wood, 

116 


Brigadier  Frederick 

the  fodder,  and  the  potatoes,  and  I  will  undertake 
to  arrange  the  furniture  and  to  put  everything  in 
order." 

He  spoke  with  so  much  good  sense  that  I  fol- 
lowed his  advice.  We  went  down  into  the  large 
room,  and  though  it  is  not  my  habit,  we  took  a 
good  glass  of  brandy  together ;  after  which  I  set 
out,  the  register  under  my  blouse,  the  hammer  in 
my  pocket,  and  a  stout  stick  in  my  hand.  It  was 
my  last  journey  through  the  country  on  affairs  con- 
nected with  the  service.  The  pool  of  Frohmuhle 
was  frozen  over ;  the  flour-mill  and  the  saw-mill 
lower  down  had  ceased  to  go.  No  one,  since  the 
day  before,  had  followed  my  path  ;  all  seemed 
desolate  ;  for  three  hours  I  did  not  see  a  soul. 

Then,  remembering  the  smoke  from  the  char- 
coal kilns,  the  sound  of  the  wood-cutters'  hatchets 
working  in  the  clearings,  lopping  the  trees,  piling 
up  the  fagots  beside  the  forest  paths,  even  in  mid- 
winter, all  that  formerly  gay  life,  that  profit  that 
gave  food  and  happiness  to  the  smallest  hamlets, 
I  said  to  myself  that  the  robbers,  who  were  capa- 
ble of  troubling  such  order  to  appropriate  wrong- 
fully the  fruit  of  the  labour  of  others,  ought  to  be 
hanged. 

And  from  time  to  time,  in  the  midst  of  the 
silence,  seeing  a  sparrow-hawk  pass  on  his  large 

117 


Brigadier  Frederick 

wings,  his  claws  drawn  up  under  his  stomach  and 
uttering  his  war  cry,  I  thought : 

44  That  is  like  the  Prussians  !  They  have  got 
the  Germans  in  their  claws  ;  they  have  given  them 
officers  who  will  cudgel  them  ;  instead  of  working, 
those  people  are  forced  to  spend  their  last  penny 
in  the  war,  and  the  others  have  always  their  beaks 
and  claws  in  their  flesh  ;  they  pluck  them  leisurely, 
without  their  being  able  to  defend  themselves. 
Woe  to  us  all !  The  noble  Prussians  will  devour 
us ;  and  the  Badeners,  the  Bavarians,  the  Wtirtem- 
bergers,  and  the  Hessians  with  us  ! " 

Those  melancholy  ideas,  and  many  others  of 
the  same  kind,  passed  through  my  mind.  About 
ten  o'clock  I  ascended  the  stairs  of  the  old  fort, 
abandoned  since  the  beginning  of  the  war;  then 
descending  the  Rue  du  Faubourg,  I  entered  the 
house  of  the  chief  inspector.  But  the  office  door 
in  the  vestibule  at  the  left  was  closed  ;  I  rang  and 
tried  to  open  the  door,  but  no  one  came.  I  was 
going  out  to  ask  one  of  the  neighbours  what  had 
become  of  M.  Laroche,  and  whether  he  had  been 
obliged  to  go  away,  when  an  upper  door  opened, 
and  the  chief  inspector  himself  appeared  on  the 
stairs  in  his  dressing-gown. 


118 


Brigadier  Frederick 

XXI 

"  Who  is  there  ? "  said  M.  Laroche,  not  recog- 
nising me  at  first  under  my  broad-brimmed  felt 
hat. 

"It  is  I,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"  Ah !  it  is  you,  Father  Frederick  ! "  said  he, 
quite  rejoiced.  "Well,  come  up  stairs.  All  my 
household  has  departed,  I  am  here  alone ;  they 
bring  me  my  meals  from  the  Grapes  Inn.  Come 
in,  come  in  ! " 

We  went  into  a  very  neat  little  room  on  the 
first  floor ;  a  large  fire  was  burning  in  the  stove. 
And,  pushing  forward  an  arm-chair  for  me  : 

"Take  this  chair,  Father  Frederick,"  said  he, 
seating  himself  beside  a  small  table  covered  with 
books.  So  I  sat  down,  and  we  began  to  talk  over 
our  affairs.  I  told  him  about  our  visit  to  the  Ober- 
fCrster ;  he  knew  all  about  that  and  a  good  many 
other  things  beside. 

"  I  am  glad  to  find,"  said  he,  "  that  all  our 
guards,  except  poor  Hepp,  the  father  of  six  chil- 
dren, have  done  their  duty.  With  regard  to  you, 
Father  Frederick,  I  never  had  the  least  doubt 
about  either  your  son-in-law  or  yourself." 

Then  he  inquired  about  our  position ;  and,  tak- 
ing the  register  and  the  hammer,  he  put  them  in  a 

119 


Brigadier  Frederick 

closet,  saying  that  his  papers  were  already  gone, 
that  he  would  send  these  after  them.  He  asked 
me  if  we  were  not  in  pressing  need.  I  answered 
that  I  had  still  three  hundred  francs,  that  I  had 
saved  to  buy  a  strip  of  meadow,  beside  the  or- 
chard, that  that  would  doubtless  be  sufficient." 

"  So  much  the  better  ! "  said  he.  "  You  know, 
Father  Frederick,  that  my  purse  is  at  your  service ; 
it  is  not  very  full  just  now ;  every  one  has  to 
economize  their  resources,  for  Heaven  only  knows 
how  long  this  campaign  may  last ;  but  if  you  want 
some  money " 

I  thanked  him  again.  We  talked  together  like 
real  friends.  He  even  asked  me  to  take  a  cigar 
from  his  box ;  but  I  thanked  him  and  refused. 
Then  he  asked  me  if  I  had  a  pipe,  and  told 
me  to  light  it.  I  tell  you  this  to  make  you  un- 
derstand what  a  fine  man  our  chief  inspector 
was. 

I  remember  that  he  told  me  after  that  that  all 
was  not  yet  over  ;  that  doubtless  our  regular  army 
had  surrendered  en  masse ;  that  all  our  officers, 
marshals,  generals,  even  the  simple  corporals  had 
fallen  into  the  power  of  the  enemy,  a  thing  that 
had  never  been  seen  before  since  the  beginning  of 
the  history  of  France,  or  in  that  of  any  other  na- 
tion ;  that  pained  him,  and  even  if  I  may  say  so 

1 20 


Brigadier  Frederick 

made  him  indignant.  He  had  tears  in  his  eyes 
like  myself. 

But  after  that,  he  said  that  Paris  held  good, 
that  the  great  people  of  Paris  had  never  shown  so 
much  courage  and  patriotism  ;  he  added  that  a 
large  and  solid  army,  though  composed  of  young 
men,  had  been  formed  near  Orleans,  and  that  great 
things  were  expected  from  it ;  that  the  republic 
had  been  proclaimed  after  Sedan  as  the  peasants 
go  for  a  doctor  when  the  patient  is  dying,  and 
that,  however,  this  republic  had  had  the  courage 
to  take  upon  itself  the  burden  of  all  the  disasters, 
dangers  that  it  had  not  caused,  while  those  who 
had  drawn  us  into  the  war  withdrew  to  a  foreign 
country.  That  a  very  energetic  man,  Gambetta,  a 
member  of  the  provisory  government,  was  at  the 
head  of  this  great  movement ;  that  he  was  calling 
around  him  all  the  Frenchmen  in  a  condition  to 
bear  arms,  without  distinction  of  opinions,  and 
that  if  the  campaign  lasted  a  few  months  longer 
the  Germans  could  not  hold  out ;  that  all  the 
heads  of  the  families  being  enlisted,  their  estates, 
their  workshops,  their  improvements  were  neglect- 
ed. No  ploughing  or  sowing  were  done,  and  that 
the  women  and  children,  the  entire  population, 
were  dying  of  terrible  starvation. 

We  have  since  seen,  George,  that  those  things 
121 


Brigadier  Frederick 


were  true ;  all  the  letters  that  we  found  on  the 
landwehr  told  of  the  terrible  poverty  in  Germany. 

So  what  M.  Laroche  told  me  filled  me  with 
hope.  He  promised  also  to  have  my  pension  paid 
co  me  as  soon  as  it  would  be  possible,  and  about 
one  o'clock  I  left  him,  full  of  confidence.  He 
shook  hands  with  me  and  called  out  from  the 
door : 

"  Keep  up  a  good  heart,  Father  Frederick  ;  we 
will  have  happy  days  yet." 

After  I  left  him  I  felt  like  another  man,  and  I 
walked  leisurely  back  to  Graufthal,  where  a  most 
agreeable  surprise  awaited  me. 


XXII 


Jean  Merlin  had  put  everything  in  order. 
The  cracks  in  the  roof  and  in  the  doors  and  win- 
dows were  stopped  up ;  the  floor  was  washed,  the 
furniture  placed  and  the  pictures  hung,  as  much 
as  possible  as  they  were  at  the  forest  house.  It 
was  bitterly  cold  outside ;  our  stove,  which  Jean 
had  put  up  and  blackleaded,  drew  like  a  forge  bel- 
lows, and  the  grandmother,  sitting  beside  it  in  her 
old  arm-chair,  was  listening  to  the  crackling  of  the 
fire,  and  looking  at  the  flame  which  was  lighting 

122 


Brigadier  Frederick 

up  the  room.  Marie-Rose,  with  her  sleeves  rolled 
up,  seemed  delighted  at  my  satisfaction ;  Jean 
Merlin,  his  pipe  in  his  mouth  and  screwing  up  his 
eyes,  looked  at  me  as  if  to  say  : 

"  Well,  Papa  Frederick,  what  do  you  think  of 
this  ?  Is  it  cold  now  in  this  room  ?  Is  not  every- 
thing clean,  shining  and  in  good  order  ?  Marie- 
Rose  and  I  did  all  that  ?  " 

And  when  I  saw  all  that  I  said  to  them  : 

11  All  right.  The  grandmother  is  warm.  Now 
I  see  that  we  can  stay  here.  You  are  good 
children!" 

That  pleased  them  very  much.  They  set  the 
table.  Marie-Rose  had  made  a  good  soup  of  cab- 
bages and  bacon,  for  as  the  Germans  took  all  the 
fresh  meat  for  their  own  use  we  were  very  glad  to 
get  even  smoked  meat ;  fortunately  potatoes,  cab- 
bages, and  turnips  did  not  run  out  and  they  formed 
our  principal  resource. 

That  evening  we  all  took  supper  together  ;  and 
during  the  repast  I  related  in  all  its  details  what 
the  chief  inspector  had  told  me  about  the  affairs 
of  the  republic.  It  was  the  first  positive  news  we 
had  had  from  France  for  a  long  time  ;  so  you  may 
guess  how  eagerly  they  all  listened  to  me.  Jean's 
eyes  sparkled  when  I  spoke  of  approaching  battles 
near  the  Loire. 

123 

.       G— Vol.  11 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"  Ah  ! "  said  he,  "  they  call  the  French  the  old 
soldiers.  Indeed !  they  defend  their  country, 
then!" 

And  I  cried,  full  of  enthusiasm  : 

11  Of  course,  they  will  defend  their  country ! 
You  had  better  believe  it !  The  chief  inspector 
says  that  if  it  lasts  for  a  few  months  the  others 
will  have  enough  of  it." 

Then  he  twirled  his  mustache,  seemed  almost 
to  speak ;  but  then  looking  at  Marie-Rose,  who 
was  listening  to  us  with  her  usual  quiet  aspect,  he 
went  on  eating,  saying : 

"  Anyhow,  you  give  me  great  pleasure  by  tell- 
ing me  that,  Father  Frederick ;  yes,  it  is  famous 
news." 

At  last,  about  eight  o'clock,  he  went  away,  an- 
nouncing that  he  would  be  back  on  the  morrow 
or  the  day  after,  and  we  went  quietly  to  bed. 

This  night  was  as  comfortable  as  the  night 
before  had  been  cold  and  disagreeable ;  we  slept 
soundly  in  spite  of  the  frost  outside. 

I  had  recovered  from  my  sorrow ;  I  thought 
that  we  could  live  at  Graufthal  till  the  end  of 
the  war. 


124 


Brigadier  Frederick 

XXIII 

Once  withdrawn  under  the  rocks  of  Graufthal, 
I  hoped  that  the  Germans  would  let  us  alone. 
What  else  could  they  ask  from  us  ?  We  had  given 
up  everything  ;  we  lived  in  the  most  wretched  vil- 
lage in  the  country,  in  the  midst  of  the  forest; 
their  squads  came  very  seldom  into  this  corner, 
whose  inhabitants  were  so  poor  that  they  could 
scarcely  find  a  few  bundles  of  hay  or  straw  to  take 
away  with  them.  All  seemed  for  the  best,  and  we 
thought  that  we  would  not  have  anything  more  to 
do  with  the  accursed  race. 

Unfortunately  we  are  often  mistaken  ;  things 
do  not  always  turn  out  as  we  thought  they  would. 
Soon  it  was  rumoured  that  Donadien,  big  Kern, 
and  the  other  guards  had  crossed  the  Vosges  ;  that 
they  were  fighting  the  Germans  near  Belfort,  and 
all  at  once  the  idea  struck  me  that  Jean  would  also 
want  to  go.  I  hoped  that  Marie- Rose  would  keep 
him  back,  but  I  was  not  sure  of  it.  The  fear 
haunted  me. 

Every  morning,  while  my  daughter  arranged 
the  rooms,  and  the  grandmother  told  her  beads,  I 
went  down  stairs  to  smoke  my  pipe  in  the  large 
room  with  Father  Ykel.  Koffel,  Starck,  and 
others  would  come  dropping  in,  to  take  a  glass  of 

125 


Brigadier  Frederick 

brandy ;  they  told  of  domiciliary  visits,  of  orders 
not  to  ring  the  bells,  of  the  arrival  of  German 
schoolmasters  to  replace  our  own,  of  the  requisi- 
tions of  all  kinds  that  increased  every  day,  of  the 
unhappy  peasants  who  were  compelled  to  work  to 
feed  the  Prussians,  and  of  a  thousand  other  atroc- 
ities that  infuriated  one  against  those  stupid  Ba- 
deners,  Bavarians,  and  Wiirtembergers,  who  were 
allowing  themselves  to  be  killed  for  the  sake  of 
King  William,  and  warring  against  their  own  in- 
terests. Big  Starck,  who  was  very  pious,  and  al- 
ways went  to  mass  every  Sunday,  said  that  they 
would  all  be  damned,  without  hope  of  redemption, 
and  that  their  souls  would  be  burned  to  all 
eternity. 

That  helped  to  make  the  time  pass  agreeably. 
One  day  Hulot  brought  us  his  grandson,  Jean 
Baptiste,  a  big  boy  of  sixteen,  in  his  vest  and 
pantaloons  of  coarse  linen,  his  feet  bare,  winter  as 
well  as  summer,  in  his  large  shoes,  his  hair  hang- 
ing in  long,  yellow  locks  over  his  face,  and  a 
satchel  hanging  over  his  thin  back.  This  boy, 
sitting  in  front  of  the  fire,  told  us  that  at  Sarre- 
bruck  and  Landau  the  landwehr  were  furious ; 
that  they  were  declaiming  in  all  the  taverns 
against  the  crazy  republicans,  the  cause  of  all  the 
battles  since  Sedan,  and  of  the  continuation  of 

126 


Brigadier  Frederick 

the  war ;  that  it  had  been  reported  that  a  battle 
had  been  fought  at  Coulmiers,  near  Orleans ;  that 
the  Germans  were  retreating  ir  disorder,  and  that 
the  army  of  Frederick  Charles  was  going  to  their 
rescue ;  but  that  our  young  men  were  also  learn- 
ing to  join  the  army  of  the  republic ;  and  that  the 
hauptmanner  had  laid  a  fine  of  fifty  francs  a  day 
upon  the  parents  of  those  who  had  left  the  coun- 
try, which  had  not  prevented  him,  Jean  Baptiste, 
from  going  to  the  rescue  of  his  country  like  his 
comrades. 

Scarcely  had  he  ceased  to  speak  when  I  ran 
up  the  stairs,  four  steps  at  a  time,  to  tell  Marie- 
Rose  the  good  news.  I  found  her  on  the  land- 
ing. She  went  down  to  the  laundry,  and  did  not 
appear  in  the  least  astonished. 

11  Yes,  yes,  father,"  she  said,  "  I  thought  it 
would  end  that  way ;  every  one  must  lend  a 
hand — all  the  men  must  go.  Those  Germans 
are  thieves  ;  they  will  return  routed  and  de- 
feated." 

Her  tranquility  astonished  me,  for  the  idea 
must  have  occurred  to  her,  too,  that  Jean,  an 
able-bodied  man,  would  not  stay  at  home  at  such 
a  time,  and  that  he  might  all  at  once  go  off 
yonder  in  spite  of  his  promises  of  marriage.  So 
I  went  to  my  room  to  think  it  over,  while  she 

127 


Brigadier  Frederick 

went  down,  and  two  minutes  afterward  I  heard 
Jean  Merlin's  step  upon  the  stairs. 

He  came  in  quietly,  his  large  felt  hat  on  the 
back  of  his  head,  and  he  said  good  -  humour- 
edly  : 

"  Good  morning,  Father  Frederick ;  you  are 
alone?" 

"  Yes,  Jean  ;  Marie-Rose  has  just  gone  to  the 
laundry,  and  the  grandmother  is  still  in  bed." 

"  Ah  !  very  good,"  said  he,  putting  his  stick 
behind  the  door. 

I  suspected  something  was  coming,  from  his 
look.  He  walked  up  and  down,  with  bent  head, 
and,  stopping  suddenly,  he  said  to  me  : 

"  You  know  what  is  going  on  near  Orleans  ? 
You  know  that  the  breaking  up  of  the  German 
army  has  begun,  and  that  all  willing  men  are  called 
upon.     What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

I  flushed  scarlet  and  answered,  feeling  rather 
embarrassed : 

"  Yes,  for  those  on  the  other  side  of  the  Loire 
it  is  all  very  well ;  but  we  others  would  have  a 
long  journey  to  take,  and  then  the  Prussians 
would  arrest  us  on  the  road  ;  they  guard  all  the 
paths  and  highways." 

"  Pshaw  ! "  said  he  ;  "  they  think  the  Prussians 
more    cunning    than    they  really   are.     I   would 

128 


Brigadier  Frederick 

wager  that  I  could  pass  the  Vosges  under  their 
noses.  Big  Kern  and  Donadien  have  passed, 
with  a  good  many  others." 

Then  I  knew  that  he  wanted  to  go,  that  his 
mind  was  made  up  to  a  certain  extent,  and  that 
gave  me  a  shock ;  for  if  he  once  set  off,  Heaven 
only  knew  when  his  marriage  would  take  place ; 
the  thought  of  Marie-Rose  troubled  me. 

11  Very  likely,"  I  said ;  "  but  you  must  think 
of  the  old  people,  Jean.  What  would  your 
mother,  good  old  Margredel,  say,  if  you  aban- 
doned her  at  such  a  time  ?  " 

"  My  mother  is  a  good  Frenchwoman,"  he 
answered.  "We  have  talked  it  over,  brigadier; 
she  consents." 

My  arms  dropped  at  my  sides ;  I  did  not 
know  what  to  reply  ;  and  only  at  the  end  of  a 
minute  I  managed  to  say  : 

"  And  Marie-Rose !  You  do  not  think  of 
Marie-Rose !  Yet  you  are  betrothed.  She  is 
your  wife  in  the  eyes  of  God  ! " 

"Marie-Rose  consents  also,"  he  said.  "We 
only  want  your  consent  now  ;  say  yes  ;  all  will  be 
settled.  The  last  time  I  was  here,  while  you  were 
down  stairs  smoking  your  pipe,  I  told  Marie- Rose 
all  about  it.  I  said  to  her  that  a  forest  guard 
without  a  situation,  an  old  soldier  like  me,  ought 

129 


Brigadier  Frederick 

to   be  at  the   front ;    she    understood   and   con- 
sented." 

When  he  told  me  that,  George,  it  was  too 
much ;  I  cried :  "  I  do.  It  is  not  possible ! " 
And,  opening  the  window,  I  called  out : 

"  Marie-Rose  !  Marie- Rose  !  Come  here.  Jean 
has  arrived." 

She  was  hanging  out  clothes  in  the  shed,  and 
leaving  at  once  her  work,  she  came  up  stairs. 

"  Marie-Rose,"  I  said,  "  is  it  true  that  you 
have  consented  to  let  Jean  Merlin  go  to  fight  the 
Germans  at  Orleans,  behind  Paris  ?  Is  it  true  ? 
Speak  freely." 

Then,  pale  as  death,  with  flashing  eyes,  she 
said : 

"  Yes.  It  is  his  duty.  He  must  go.  We  do 
not  wish  to  be  Prussians,  and  the  others  ought 
not  to  fight  alone  to  save  us.  He  must  be  a  man. 
He  must  defend  his  country." 

She  said  other  things  of  the  same  kind  that 
warmed  my  blood  and  made  me  think : 

"  What  a  brave  girl  that  is !  No,  I  did  not 
know  her  before.  She  is  the  true  descendant  of 
the  old  Burats.  How  the  old  people  wake  up 
and  speak  through  the  mouths  of  their  children  ! 
They  want  us  to  defend  the  earth  of  the  old 
cemetery  where  their  bones  lie  buried." 

130 


Brigadier  Frederick 

I  rose,  white  as  a  sheet,  with  open  arms. 
"  Come  to  my  arms  ! "  I  said  to  them  ;  "  come  to 
my  arms  !  You  are  right.  Yes,  it  is  the  duty  of 
every  Frenchman  to  go  and  fight.  Ah  !  if  I  were 
only  ten  years  younger,  I  would  go  with  you, 
Jean  ;  we  would  be  two  brothers  in  arms."  And 
we  embraced  each  other  all  round. 


XXIV 


I  wept  ;  I  was  proud  of  having  so  brave  and 
honest  a  daughter,  whom  I  had  not  appreciated 
till  then  ;  that  made  me  lift  up  my  head  again. 
The  resolution  of  Jean  and  Marie-Rose  appeared 
natural  to  me. 

But,  as  we  heard  the  grandmother  groping  her 
way  from  the  other  room,  by  leaning  against  the 
wall,  I  made  a  sign  to  them  to  be  silent,  and, 
when  the  poor  old  woman  came  in,  I  said  : 

"Grandmother,  here  is  Jean,  whom  the  chief 
inspector  is  about  to  send  to  Nancy ;  he  will  be 
there  for  some  time." 

"  Ah  ! "  said  she.     "  There  is  no  danger  ?  " 

"  No,  grandmother,  it  is  a  commission  for  the 
forest  registers ;  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
war." 

131 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"  So  much  the  better ! "  said  she.  "  How 
many  others  are  in  danger !  We  ought  to  be 
very  happy  to  keep  out  of  it ! " 

Then,  sitting  down,  she  began,  as  usual,  to  say 
her  prayers. 

What  more  can  I  tell  you,  George,  about 
those  things  that  rend  my  heart  when  I  think 
about  them  ? 

Jean  Merlin  spent  the  whole  day  with  us. 
Marie-Rose  cooked  as  good  a  dinner  as  she  could 
in  our  position  ;  she  put  on  her  handsome  cap 
and  her  blue  silk  fichu,  so  as  to  be  agreeable  to 
the  eyes  of  the  man  she  loved. 

I  seem  to  see  her  still,  sitting  at  the  table 
near  the  grandmother,  opposite  her  betrothed,  and 
smiling,  as  if  it  were  a  holiday.  I  seem  to  hear 
Jean  talking  about  the  good  news  from  Orleans, 
about  the  happy  chances  of  the  war,  which  are 
not  always  the  same. 

Then,  after  dinner,  while  the  grandmother 
dozes  in  her  arm-chair,  I  see  the  two  children 
sitting  beside  each  other,  near  the  little  window, 
looking  at  each  other,  holding  each  other's  hand, 
and  talking  in  a  low  voice,  sometimes  gaily, 
sometimes  sadly,  as  is  the  custom  with  lovers. 

As  for  me,  I  walked  up  and  down,  smoking, 
and   thinking   of   the   future.     I  listened  to  the 

132 


Brigadier  Frederick 

hum  of  talk  from  the  tavern,  and,  remembering 
the  danger  of  leaving  the  country,  the  penalties 
established  by  the  Germans  against  those  who 
wished  to  join  our  armies,  I  seemed  to  hear  the 
stamping  of  heavy  boots  and  the  rattle  of  sabres. 
I  went  down  the  stairs,  and,  half  opening  the 
door  of  the  smoky  room,  I  looked  in,  and  then  I 
went  up  stairs  again,  a  little  reassured,  saying  to 
myself  that  I  ought  not  to  be  afraid,  that  more 
difficult  lines  of  the  enemy  had  been  crossed,  and 
that  energetic  men  always  got  well  through  their 
business.     So  passed  all  that  afternoon. 

Then,  at  supper,  as  the  time  for  his  departure 
drew  near,  a  more  terrible  sadness  and  strange, 
unknown  fears  seized  upon  me. 

"  Go  to  bed,"  I  said  to  the  grandmother ;  "  the 
night  has  come." 

But  she  did  not  hear  me,  being  a  little  deaf, 
and  she  went  on  muttering  her  prayers,  and  we 
looked  at  each  other,  exchanging  our  thoughts  by 
signs.  At  last,  however,  the  poor  old  woman 
rose,  leaning  her  two  hands  on  the  arms  of  her 
chair,  and  murmuring : 

"  Good  night,  my  children.  Come,  Jean,  till 
I  kiss  you.  Distrust  the  Prussians ;  they  are 
traitors !  Do  not  run  any  risks ;  and  may  the 
Lord  be  with  you  ! " 

i33 


Brigadier  Frederick 

They  kissed  each  other  ;  Jean  seemed  touched ; 
and  when  the  door  was  closed,  as  the  church  clock 
was  striking  eight,  and  when  the  little  panes  were 
growing  dark,  he  said  • 

"  Marie- Rose,  the  time  has  come.  The  moon 
is  rising ;  it  is  lighting  already  the  path  by  which 
I  must  reach  the  Donon." 

She  flung  herself  into  his  arms  and  they  held 
each  other  clasped  in  a  close  embrace  for  a  long 
time,  in  silence,  for  down  stairs  they  were  talking 
and  laughing  still ;  strangers  might  be  watching 
us,  so  we  had  to  be  prudent. 

You  do  not  know,  George,  and  I  hope  that 
you  never  will  know,  what  a  father  feels  at  such  a 
moment. 

At  last  they  separated.  Jean  took  his  stick ; 
Marie-Rose,  pale,  but  composed,  said :  "  Adieu, 
Jean  ! "  And  he,  without  answering,  hurried  out, 
breathing  as  if  something  was  choking  him. 

I  followed  him.  We  descended  the  dark  little 
staircase,  and  on  the  threshold,  where  the  moon, 
covered  with  clouds,  cast  a  feeble  ray,  we  also 
kissed  each  other. 

"You  do  not  want  anything?"  I  said,  for  I 
had  put  about  fifty  francs  in  my  pocket. 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  I  have  all  that  I  need." 

We  held  each  other's  hands  as  if  we  could 
i34 


Brigadier  Frederick 

never  let  go,  and  we  looked  at  each  other  as  if 
we  could  read  each  other's  hearts. 

And,  as  I  felt  my  lips  quiver : 

"  Come,  father,"  said  he,  in  a  trembling  voice, 
"  have  courage  ;  we  are  men  ! " 

Then  he  strode  away.  I  looked  at  him  vanish- 
ing in  the  darkness,  blessing  him  in  my  heart.  I 
thought  I  saw  him  turn  and  wave  his  hat  at  the 
corner  of  the  path,  by  the  rock,  but  I  am  not  sure. 

When  I  went  in,  Marie-Rose  was  seated  on  a 
chair  by  the  open  window,  her  head  buried  in  her 
hands,  weeping  bitterly.  The  poor  child  had  been 
courageous  up  to  the  last  minute,  but  then  her 
heart  had  melted  into  tears. 

I  said  nothing  to  her,  and,  leaving  the  small 
lamp  on  the  table,  I  went  into  my  room. 

These  things  happened  in  November,  187a 
But  much  greater  sorrows  were  to  come. 


XXV 


After  that  for  a  few  days  all  was  quiet.  We 
heard  nothing  more  from  Orleans.  From  time  to 
time  the  cannon  of  the  city  thundered,  and  was 
answered  by  that  of  the  enemy  from  Quatre  Vents 
and  Werhem ;  then  all  was  silent  again. 

i35 


Brigadier  Frederick 

The  weather  had  turned  to  rain  ;  it  poured  in 
torrents  ;  the  melting  snow  floated  in  blocks  down 
the  course  of  the  swollen  river.  People  stayed 
in-doors,  cowering  close  to  the  fire ;  we  thought 
of  the  absent,  of  the  war,  of  the  marches  and 
counter-marches.  The  gens-d'armes  of  Bismark 
Bohlen  continued  to  make  their  rounds ;  we  saw 
them  pass,  their  cloaks  dripping  with  rain.  The 
silence  and  the  uncertainty  overwhelmed  one. 
Marie-Rose  came  and  went  without  saying  any- 
thing ;  she  even  put  on  a  smiling  aspect  when  my 
melancholy  grew  very  great ;  but  I  could  see  from 
her  pallor  what  she  was  suffering. 

Sometimes,  too,  the  grandmother,  when  we 
least  expected  it,  would  begin  to  talk  about  Jean, 
asking  for  news  of  him.  We  would  answer  her 
by  some  insignificant  thing,  and  the  short  ideas  of 
old  age,  her  weakened  memory,  prevented  her 
from  asking  more ;  she  would  be  contented  with 
what  we  could  tell  her,  and  murmured,  thought- 
fully : 

"  Very  good  !  very  good  ! " 

And  then  the  cares  of  life,  the  daily  labour, 
the  care  of  the  cattle  and  of  the  household,  helped 
us  to  keep  up. 

Poor  Calas,  having  no  more  work  to  do  with 
us,  had  turned  smuggler  between  Phalsbourg  and 

136 


Brigadier  Frederick 

the  suburbs,  risking  his  life  every  day  to  carry 
a  few  pounds  of  tobacco  or  other  such  thing 
to  the  glacis ;  it  was  rumoured  at  this  time 
that  he  had  been  killed  by  a  German  sentinel; 
Ragot  had  followed  him  ;  we  heard  nothing  more 
of  either  of  them.  They  have  doubtless  been 
sleeping  for  a  long  time  in  the  corner  of  a  wood 
or  in  some  hole  or  other ;  they  are  very  fortu- 
nate. 

One  morning,  in  the  large  down-stairs  room, 
when  we  were  alone,  Father  Ykel  said  to  me  : 

"  Frederick,  it  is  known  that  your  son-in-law, 
Jean  Merlin,  has  gone  to  join  our  army.  Take 
care,  the  Prussians  may  give  you  trouble  ! " 

I  was  all  taken  aback,  and  I  answered,  after  a 
moment : 

"  No,  Father  Ykel !  Jean  is  gone  to  D6sen- 
heim  on  business;  he  is  trying  to  collect  old 
debts ;  at  this  time  we  need  money." 

"  Pshaw ! "  said  he,  "  you  need  not  hide  the 
truth  from  me  ;  I  am  an  old  friend  of  the  Burats 
and  you.  Merlin  has  not  been  here  for  several 
days ;  he  has  crossed  the  mountain,  and  he  did 
right ;  he  is  a  brave  fellow  ;  but  there  are  plenty 
of  traitors  about  here ;  you  have  been  denounced, 
so  be  on  your  guard." 

This  warning  startled  me,  and,  thinking  that  it 
137 


Brigadier  Frederick 

would  be  well  to  tell  his  mother,  Margredel,  and 
his  Uncle  Daniel,  after  breakfast,  without  saying 
anything  to  Marie-Rose,  I  took  my  stick  and  set 
out  for  Felsberg. 

It  had  stopped  raining.  The  winter  sun  was 
shining  over  the  woods,  and  this  spectacle,  after 
leaving  our  dark  nook,  seemed  to  revive  me.  As 
the  path  at  the  hill  passed  near  the  forest  house, 
showing  the  old  roof  in  the  distance,  I  was  touched 
by  it.  All  my  recollections  came  back  to  me,  and 
it  occurred  to  me  to  go  and  take  a  look  at  the 
cottage,  and  to  look  at  the  inside  by  standing  on 
the  bench  by  the  wall.  It  seemed  as  if  it  would 
do  me  good  to  see  once  more  the  old  room, 
wherein  the  old  people  had  died  and  where  my 
children  had  been  born  !  My  heart  warmed  at 
the  idea  and  I  went  swiftly  on,  till,  reaching  the 
little  bridge  between  the  two  willows,  covered 
with  frost,  I  stood  still  in  horror. 

A  German  forest-guard,  his  green  felt  hat,  with 
its  cock-feathers,  set  on  one  side,  his  long-stemmed 
porcelain  pipe  in  his  great  fair  mustaches,  and 
with  his  arms  crossed  on  the  window-sill,  was 
smoking  quietly,  with  a  calm  expression,  happy 
as  in  his  own  house.  He  was  looking  smilingly 
at  two  chubby,  fair-haired  children,  who  were 
playing  before  the  door,  and  behind  him,  in  the 

138 


Brigadier  Frederick 

shadow  of  the  room,  was  leaning  a  woman,  very 
fat,  with  red  cheeks,  calling,  gaily : 

"  Wilhelm,  Karl,  come  in ;  here  is  your  bread 
and  butter ! " 

All  my  blood  seemed  to  go  through  my  veins 
at  the  sight.  How  hard  it  is  to  see  strangers  in 
the  old  people's  house,  where  one  has  lived  till 
one's  old  age,  from  which  one  has  been  chased, 
from  no  crime  of  one's  own,  only  because  others 
are  masters  and  turn  one  out  of  doors  !  It  is  ter- 
rible ! 

The  guard  raising  his  head  suddenly,  I  was 
afraid  he  would  see  me,  so  I  hid  myself.  Yes,  I 
hid  myself  behind  the  willows,  hastening  to  reach 
the  path  farther  on,  and  stooping  like  a  malefac- 
tor. I  would  have  been  ashamed  if  that  man  had 
seen  that  the  former  master  had  found  him  in  his 
house,  in  his  room,  beside  his  hearth  ;  I  blushed 
at  the  idea !  I  hid  myself,  for  he  might  have 
laughed  at  the  Alsatian,  who  had  been  turned  out 
of  doors ;  he  might  have  enjoyed  himself  over-  it. 
But  from  that  day  hatred,  which  I  had  never 
known  before,  entered  my  heart ;  I  hate  those 
Germans,  who  peacefully  enjoy  the  fruit  of  our 
toil,  and  consider  themselves  honest  people.  I 
abhor  them  ! 

From  there  I  went  up  through  the  heath  to 
i39 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Felsberg,    feeling    very   sad    and    with    hanging 
head. 

The  poor  village  seemed  as  sad  as  I,  among  its 
heaps  of  mud  and  dunghills  ;  not  a  soul  was  to  be 
seen  in  the  street,  where  requisitions  of  all  kinds 
had  passed  more  than  once.  And  at  the  old 
schoolhouse,  when  I  tried  to  lift  the  latch,  I  found 
the  door  fastened.  I  listened  ;  no  noise  nor  murmur 
of  children  was  to  be  heard.  I  looked  through 
the  window ;  the  copies  were  hanging  there  still 
by  their  strings,  but  the  benches  were  empty. 

I  called,  "  Father  Daniel ! "  looking  up  at  the 
first-floor  windows,  for  the  garden  gate  was  also 
closed.  Some  moments  later  another  door,  that 
of  Margredel's  house,  built  against  the  gable  end, 
opened  ;  Uncle  Daniel,  an  active  little  man,  with 
coarse  woollen  stockings,  and  a  black  cotton  skull 
cap  on  his  head,  appeared,  saying : 

"  Who  is  there  ? "     I  turned  round. 

"Ah!    it    is    Brigadier    Frederick,"   said   he. 
v  "  Come  in  ! " 

"Then  you  do  not  live  yonder  any  more?" 
said  I. 

"  No,  since  day  before  yesterday  the  school 
has  been  closed,"  he  answered,  sadly. 

And  in  the  lower  room  of  the  old  cottage, 
near  the  little  cast-iron  stove,  where  the  potatoes 

140 


Brigadier  Frederick 

were  cooking  in  the  pot,  sending  their  steam  up 
to  the  ceiling,  I  saw  Margredel,  sitting  on  a  low 
stool. 


XXVI 


Margredel  wore  her  usual  open,  kindly  ex- 
pression, and  even  her  usual  smile. 

"  Ah  ! "  said  she,  "  we  have  no  longer  our  pretty 
up-stairs  room  for  our  friends.  The  Germans  are 
hunting  us  out  of  every  place ;  we  will  not  know 
where  to  go  soon  !  However,  sit  down  there  on 
the  bench,  Father  Frederick,  and,  if  you  like,  we 
will  eat  some  potatoes  together." 

Her  good-humour  and  her  courage  in  such  a 
wretched  place  made  me  still  more  indignant 
against  those  who  had  plunged  us  all  into  mis- 
fortune ;  my  consternation  kept  me  from  speaking. 

"  Are  Marie- Rose  and  the  grandmother  well  ? " 
asked  Margredel. 

"  Yes,  thank  God  ! "  I  answered  ;  "  but  we  are 
very  uneasy  about  Jean.  The  Prussians  know 
that  he  has  gone  ;  Father  Ykel  has  warned  me  to 
be  on  my  guard,  and  I  came  to  warn  you." 

11  Who  cares  for  the  Prussians  ? "  said  she, 
shrugging  her  shoulders  contemptuously.  "  Ah  ! 
they  are  a  bad  race  !    Jean  has  crossed  the  moun« 

141 


Brigadier  Frederick 

tains  long  before  this ;  if  they  had  been  able  to 
stop  him  we  would  have  heard  of  it  by  this  time ; 
they  would  have  come  to  tell  us,  rubbing  their 
hands  with  delight ;  but  he  has  got  over ;  he  is  a 
fine  fellow ! " 

She  laughed  with  all  her  toothless  mouth. 

"  Those  who  have  to  fight  him  will  not  laugh. 
He  is  safe  with  our  volunteers !  The  guns  and 
cannon  are  thundering  yonder ! " 

The  poor  woman  saw  the  bright  side  of  every- 
thing, as  usual,  and  I  thought : 

"  What  a  blessing  it  is  to  have  a  character  like 
that ;  how  fortunate  ! " 

Uncle  Daniel  was  walking  about  the  room, 
saying : 

"  It  is  because  of  Jean's  departure  that  the 
bandits  shut  up  my  school.  They  had  nothing  to 
reproach  me  with  ;  they  gave  me  no  explanations ; 
they  simply  shut  it  up,  that  is  all,  and  just  gave 
us  time  enough  to  carry  away  our  furniture ; 
they  looked  at  us  crossly,  crying,  '  Schwindt  / 
sckwindt  / ' "  * 

"Yes,"  cried  Margredel,  "they  are  sly  hypo- 
crites ;  they  strike  you  heavy  blows  without  warn- 
ing. In  the  morning  they  smile  at  you,  they  sit 
by  the   fire   like   good   apostles,   they  kiss  your 

*  Quick  !  quick  ! 
142 


Brigadier  Frederick 

children  with  tears  in  their  eyes ;  and  then  all  at 
once  they  change  their  tone,  they  collar  you,  and 
turn  you  out  of  doors  without  mercy.  Ah  !  those 
good  Germans ;  we  know  those  honest  people 
now !  But  they  will  not  always  be  so  proud. 
Wait  a  bit ;  Heaven  is  just !  Our  own  people 
will  come  back  ;  Jean  will  be  with  them.  You 
will  see,  Father  Frederick  !  We  will  go  back  to 
the  forest  house ;  we  will  celebrate  the  wedding 
there  !  That  is  all  I  can  say.  Don't  you  see,  you 
must  trust  in  God.  Now  we  are  suffering  for  our 
sins.  But  God  will  put  everything  to  rights, 
when  we  will  have  finished  expiating  our  faults. 
It  cannot  be  otherwise.  He  uses  the  Prussians  to 
punish  us.  But  their  turn  will  come  ;  we  will  go 
to  their  country.  They  will  see  how  agreeable  it 
is  to  be  invaded,  robbed,  pillaged.  Let  them  have 
a  care  !     Every  dog  has  his  day  ! " 

She  spoke  with  so  much  confidence  that  it  in- 
fected me  ;  I  said  to  myself  : 

"  What  she  says  is  very  possible.  Yes,  justice 
will  be  done,  sooner  or  later  !  After  all,  we  may 
take  Alsace  again.  Those  Germans  do  not  like 
each  other.  We  would  only  have  to  win  one 
great  battle ;  the  break-up  would  begin  at  once. 
The  Bavarians,  the  Hessians,  the  Wurtembergers, 
the  Saxons,  the  Hanoverians,  they  would  all  go 

143 


Brigadier  Frederick 

home  again.      We  would  have  it  all  our  own 
way!" 

But,  in  the  meantime,  we  were  in  a  very  sad 
position.  Margredel  said  that  they  had  enough 
rye  and  potatoes  to  last  till  the  end  of  the  war, 
and  that,  with  a  few  sous'  worth  of  salt,  would  be 
sufficient  for  them. 

Master  Daniel  compressed  his  lips  and  looked 
thoughtful. 

So,  having  seen  how  things  were  getting  along 
at  Felsberg,  I  took  leave  of  my  old  friends  about 
eleven  o'clock,  wishing  them  all  the  good  things 
in  the  world. 

I  avoided  passing  by  the  forest  house,  and  I 
descended  the  hill  of  Graufthal  by  the  forest  of  fir 
trees  among  the  rocks,  leaning  on  my  stick  in  the 
steepest  places. 

I  remember  meeting,  about  two-thirds  of  my 
way  down,  old  Roupp,  an  incorrigible  thief,  with 
his  faded  little  blouse,  his  cotton  cravat  rolled  like 
a  rope  round  his  lean  neck,  and  his  hatchet  in  his 
hand. 

He  was  chopping  away  right  and  left,  at  every- 
thing that  suited  him ;  huge  branches,  small  fir 
trees,  everything  went  into  his  magnificent  fagot, 
which  was  lying  across  the  path,  and  as  I  called  to 
him: 

144 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"Then  you  are  not  afraid  of  the  Prussian 
guards,  Father  Roupp  ! " 

He  began  to  laugh,  with  his  chin  turned  up 
and  his  scrap  of  felt  hat  on  the  back  of  his  neck, 
and  wiping  his  nose  on  his  sleeve. 

"  Ah !  brigadier,"  said  he,  merrily,  "  those 
people  don't  risk  themselves  alone  in  the  forest ! 
Unless  they  come  in  regiments,  with  cannon  in 
front  of  them  and  uhlans  on  every  side,  and  ten 
against  one,  they  always  follow  the  high  roads. 
They  are  fellows  that  have  a  great  respect  for  their 
skins.     Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

I  laughed,  too,  for  he  only  told  the  truth.  But 
a  terrible  surprise  awaited  me  a  little  farther  on, 
at  the  descent  of  the  rocks. 

When  I  left  the  wood  and  saw  the  little 
thatched  roofs  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  among  the 
heath,  I  first  saw  helmets  glittering  in  the  narrow 
lane  in  front  of  Father  Ykel's  hut,  and,  looking 
closer,  I  perceived  a  ragged  crowd  of  men  and 
women  gathered  around  them  ;  Ykel,  at  the  door 
of  the  inn,  was  talking ;  Marie-Rose  behind,  in 
front  of  the  dark  stable,  and  the  grandmother  at 
her  little  window,  with  uplifted  hands,  as  if  cursing 
them. 


i45 


Brigadier  Frederick 

XXVII 

Naturally,  I  began  to  run  through  the  brush- 
wood, knowing  that  something  serious  was  hap- 
pening, and  descending  the  passage  of  the  old 
cloister,  to  make  a  short  cut,  I  came  out  behind 
the  stable,  at  the  moment  that  some  one  was  leav- 
ing it,  dragging  our  two  cows,  tied  by  the  horns. 

It  was  the  station-master  of  Bockberg,  named 
Toubac,  a  short,  thick-set  man,  with  a  black  beard, 
whose  two  tall,  handsome  daughters  were  said  to 
be  the  servants  of  the  Prussian  hauptmann*  who 
had  lodged  at  his  house  since  the  beginning  of  the 
siege. 

When  I  saw  this  rascal  taking  away  my  cattle, 
I  cried  : 

"  What  are  you  doing,  thief  ?  Let  my  cows 
alone,  or  I  will  break  every  bone  in  your  body." 

Then,  at  my  cries,  the  sergeant  and  his  squad 
of  men,  with  drawn  bayonets,  Ykel,  Marie-Rose, 
and  even  the  grandmother,  dragging  herself  along 
and  leaning  against  the  wall,  entered  the  passage. 

Marie-Rose  cried  out  to  me  : 

"  Father,  they  want  to  take  away  our  cows." 

And  the  grandmother  said  lamentingly  : 

11  Good  Heavens !  what  will  we  have  to  live 

*  Captain. 
I46 


Brigadier  Frederick 

on  ?  Those  cows  are  our  only  possession  ;  they 
are  all  that  we  have  left ! " 

The  sergeant,  a  tall,  lean  man,  with  a  tight- 
fitting  uniform  and  with  a  sword  at  his  side,  hear- 
ing Ykel  say,  "  Here  is  the  master !  the  cows  be- 
long to  him  ! "  turned  his  head,  as  if  on  a  pivot, 
and  looked  at  me  over  his  shoulder ;  he  wore  spec- 
tacles under  his  helmet,  and  had  red  mustaches 
and  a  hooked  nose ;  he  looked  like  an  owl,  who 
turns  his  head  without  moving  his  body ;  a  very 
bad  face  ! 

The  crowd  was  blocking  up  the  passage  and 
the  sergeant  cried  : 

"  Back  !  Clear  the  premises,  corporal,  and  if 
they  resist,  fire  upon  them  ! " 

The  trampling  of  the  sabots  in  the  mud  and 
the  cries  of  the  grandmother,  weeping  and  sob- 
bing, made  this  scene  fearful. 

"These  cows  suit  me,"  said  the  station-mas- 
ter to  the  sergeant ;  "I  will  take  them ;  we  can 

"  Do  they  belong  to  you  ?"  said  I,  angrily,  and 
clutching  my  stick. 

"That  is  no  affair  of  mine,"  said  he,  in  the  tone 
of  a  bandit,  without  heart  and  without  honour.  "  I 
have  my  choice  of  all  the  cows  in  the  country  to 
replace  those  that  the  rascals  from  Phalsbourg  car- 

H— Vol.  n 


Brigadier  Frederick 

ried  off  from  me  at  their  last  sortie.  I  choose 
these.  They  are  Swiss  cows.  I  always  liked 
Swiss  cows." 

"  And  who  gave  you  the  choice  ? "  I  cried. 
"  Who  can  give  you  other  people's  property  ?  " 

"The  hauptmann,  my  friend,  the  hauptmann!  " 
said  he,  turning  up  the  brim  of  his  hat  with  an  air 
of  importance. 

Then  several  of  the  crowd  began  to  laugh,  say- 
ing, "  The  hauptmann  is  a  generous  man  ;  he  pays 
those  well  who  give  him  pleasure." 

My  indignation  overcame  me ;  and  the  ser- 
geant having  ordered  his  squad  of  men  to  go  on, 
at  the  moment  when  the  station-master,  crying 
"  Hue  ! "  was  dragging  my  poor  cows  after  him  by 
the  horns,  I  was  about  to  fall  upon  him  like  a  wolf, 
when  Marie- Rose  took  hold  of  my  hands  and 
whispered  to  me  with  a  terrified  look  : 

"  Father,  do  not  stir,  they  would  kill  you. 
Think  of  grandmother." 

My  cheeks  were  quivering,  my  teeth  clenched, 
red  flames  were  dancing  before  my  eyes ;  but  the 
thought  of  my  daughter  alone  in  the  world,  aban- 
doned at  this  terrible  time,  and  of  the  grand- 
mother dying  of  hunger,  gave  me  the  strength  to 
keep  down  my  rage,  and  I  only  cried : 

"  Go,  scoundrel !    Keep  the  property  you  have 

14.8 


Brigadier  Frederick 

stolen  from  me,  but  beware  of  ever  meeting  me 
alone  in  the  forest ! " 

The  sergeant  and  his  men  pretended  not  to 
hear  ;  and  he,  the  wretch,  said,  laughing : 

u  These  cows,  sergeant,  are  as  good  as  mine ; 
after  a  long  search  we  ended  by  finding  two  fine 
animals." 

They  had  searched  all  the  villages,  visited  all 
the  stables,  and  it  was  on  us  that  the  misfortune 
fell.  Marie-Rose,  on  seeing  the  poor  beasts  raised 
by  us  at  the  forest  house,  could  not  restrain  her 
tears,  and  the  grandmother,  her  hands  clasped 
above  her  gray  head,  cried  : 

"Ah!  now — now  we  are  lost!  Now  this  is 
the  last  stroke.  My  God,  what  have  we  done  to 
deserve  such  misery  ! " 

I  supported  her  by  the  arm,  asking  her  to  go 
in,  but  she  said  : 

"  Frederick,  let  me  look  once  more  at  those 
good  creatures.  Oh  !  poor  Bellotte  !  Poor  Blan- 
chette  !     I  will  never  see  you  again  ! " 

It  was  a  heartrending  spectacle,  and  the  people 
dispersed  quickly,  turning  away  their  heads,  for 
the  sight  of  such  iniquities  is  the  most  abominable 
thing  on  earth.  At  last,  however,  we  were  obliged 
to  ascend  to  our  wretched  little  rooms,  and  think 
over  our   desolation  ;  we  had  to  think  how  we 

149 


Brigadier  Frederick 

should  live,  now  that  all  our  resources  were  taken 
away.  You  know,  George,  what  a  cow  is  worth 
to  a  peasant ;  with  a  cow  in  the  stable  one  has 
butter,  milk,  cheese,  all  the  necessaries  of  life  ;  to 
possess  a  cow  is  to  be  in  easy  circumstances,  two 
are  almost  wealth.  Up  to  the  present  time  we 
could  sell  the  produce  and  make  a  few  sous  in 
that  way ;  now  we  would  have  to  buy  everything 
at  this  time  of  dearth,  while  the  enemy  fattened 
on  our  poverty. 

Ah  !  what  a  terrible  time  it  was  !     Those  who 
come  after  us  will  have  no  idea  of  it. 


XXVIII 


All  that  we  had  left  were  five  or  six  hundred 
weight  of  hay  and  potatoes.  Ykel,  who  sympa- 
thized with  all  our  griefs,  said  to  me  the  same 
day : 

"  Look  here,  brigadier ;  what  I  predicted  has 
come  to  pass.  The  Germans  hate  you,  because 
you  refused  to  serve  under  them,  and  because  your 
son-in-law  has  gone  to  join  the  republicans.  If 
they  could  drive  you  away,  or  even  kill  you,  they 
would  do  it ;  but  they  want  still  to  give  themselves 
airs  of  justice  and  highmindedness  ;  for  that  reason 

150 


Brigadier  Frederick 

they  will  strip  you  of  everything  to  force  you  to 
leave  the  country,  as  they  say  '  of  your  own  free 
will ! '  Take  my  advice,  get  rid  of  your  fodder  as 
quickly  as  possible,  for  one  of  these  fine  mornings 
they  will  come  to  requisition  it,  saying  that  those 
who  have  no  cows  have  no  need  of  fodder.  And, 
above  all,  do  not  say  that  I  gave  this  advice  ! " 

I  knew  that  he  was  right ;  the  next  day  my 
hayloft  was  empty  ;  Gaspard,  Hulot,  Diederick, 
Jean  Adam,  big  Starck,  all  the  neighbours  came 
that  evening  and  carried  off  our  provision  of  hay 
by  bundles,  and  in  this  way  I  had  a  few  francs  in 
reserve.  Starck  even  gave  up  to  me  one  of  his 
goats,  which  was  of  the  greatest  use  to  us ;  at  least 
the  grandmother  had  a  little  milk,  morning  and 
evening,  that  prolonged  her  life ;  but  after  so 
many  shocks  the  poor  old  woman  was  terribly 
weakened,  she  trembled  like  a  leaf,  and  no  longer 
left  her  bed,  dreaming  always,  murmuring  prayers, 
talking  of  Burat,  her  husband ;  of  Grandfather 
Duch&ne,  of  all  the  old  people  that  returned  to 
her  memory.  Marie-Rose  spun  beside  her,  and 
sat  up  till  late  at  night,  listening  to  her  laboured 
breathing  and  her  complaints. 

I  sat  alone  in  the  side  room,  near  the  little 
windows,  almost  blocked  with  snow,  my  legs 
crossed,  my   unlighted   pipe   between   my  teeth, 

151 


Brigadier  Frederick 

thinking  of  all  the  acts  of  injustice,  of  all  the 
thefts,  of  those  abominations  that  took  place  every- 
day ;  I  began  to  lose  confidence  in  the  Almighty  ! 
Yes,  it  is  a  sad  thing  to  think  of,  but  by  dint  of 
suffering  I  said  to  myself  that  among  men  many 
resemble  the  sheep,  the  geese,  and  the  turkeys, 
destined  to  feed  the  wolves,  the  foxes  and  the 
hawks,  who  feast  themselves  at  their  expense. 
And  I  pushed  my  indignation  so  far  as  to  say  to 
myself  that  our  holy  religion  had  been  invented 
by  malicious  people  to  console  fools  for  being 
preyed  upon  by  others.  You  see,  George,  to  what 
excesses  injustice  drives  us.  But  the  worst  of  all 
was,  that  there  was  bad  news  from  the  interior.  A 
party  of  Germans  came  from  Wechem  to  confis- 
cate my  hay  and  found  the  loft  empty  ;  they  were 
indignant  at  it ;  they  asked  me  what  had  become 
of  the  fodder,  and  I  told  them  that  the  station- 
master's  cows  had  eaten  it.  My  goat  happened 
fortunately  to  be  among  those  of  Starck,  or  the 
bandits  would  certainly  have  carried  it  off  with 
them. 

This  troop  of  brawlers,  then  going  into  the  inn, 
related  how  the  republicans  had  been  beaten  ;  that 
they  had  left  thousands  of  corpses  on  the  field  of 
battle  ;  that  they  had  been  repulsed  from  Orleans, 
and   that   they   were   still   pursuing  them ;    they 

152 


Brigadier  Frederick 

laughed  and  boasted  among  themselves.  We  did 
not  believe  one  quarter  of  what  they  said,  but  their 
good-humoured  air  and  their  insolence  in  speaking 
of  our  generals,  forced  us  to  think  that  it  was  not 
all  a  lie. 

As  to  Jean,  no  letters,  no  news !  What  had 
become  of  him  ?  This  question,  which  I  often 
asked  myself,  troubled  me.  I  was  careful  not  to 
speak  of  it  to  Marie-Rose  ;  but  I  saw  by  her  pallor 
that  the  same  thought  followed  her  everywhere. 

It  was  now  December.  For  some  time  the 
cannon  of  Phalsbourg  had  been  silenced,  it  was 
said  that  at  night  flames  had  been  seen  to  rise  sud- 
denly from  the  ramparts ;  we  wondered  what  it 
could  be.  We  have  since  learned  that  they  were 
burning  the  powder  and  breaking  up  the  artillery 
material,  and  they  were  spiking  the  cannon,  for 
the  provisions  were  running  out  and  they  were 
about  to  be  forced  to  open  the  gates. 

This  misfortune  happened  on  the  thirteenth  of 
December,  after  six  bombardments  and  a  hundred 
and  twenty  days  of  siege.  Half  the  city  was  in 
ruins ;  at  the  bombardment  of  the  fourteenth  of 
August  alone  eight  thousand  five  hundred  shells 
had  laid  whole  streets  in  ruins ;  and  the  poor  fel- 
lows picked  up  hastily  in  the  suburbs  at  the  time 
of  the  terrible  heat  and  sent  into  the  city,  with 

153 


Brigadier  Frederick 

nothing  but  the  blouses  on  their  backs  and  their 
shoes  on  their  feet,  after  having  passed  that  fear- 
ful winter  on  the  ramparts,  were  carried  off  again 
as  prisoners  of  war,  some  to  Rastadt,  others  to 
Prussia,  through  the  snow.  On  hearing  this  news 
the  consternation  became  universal.  As  long  as 
the  cannon  of  Phalsbourg  thundered  we  had  kept 
up  our  hopes.  We  said  from  time  to  time, 
"  France  still  speaks  ! "  And  that  made  us  lift  up 
our  heads  again  ;  but  then  the  silence  told  us  that 
the  Germans  were  really  our  masters,  and  that  we 
must  make  ourselves  small  so  as  not  to  draw 
down  their  anger  upon  us. 

From  that  day,  George,  our  sadness  knew  no 
bounds.  To  add  to  our  misfortune,  the  grand- 
mother grew  much  worse.  One  morning  when  I 
entered  her  room,  Marie-Rose  said  to  me  in  a  low 
voice  : 

"  Father,  grandmother  is  very  sick.  She  does 
not  sleep  any  more.  She  seems  suffocating  !  You 
ought  to  go  for  the  doctor." 

u  You  are  right,  my  daughter,"  said  I ;  "  per- 
haps we  have  waited  too  long  as  it  is." 

And,  in  spite  of  the  pain  of  seeing  our  old 
fortress  in  the  enemy's  hands,  I  determined  to  go 
to  Phalsbourg  in  search  of  a  physician.  That  day 
the  country  was  nothing  but  mud  and  clouds.     I 

154 


Brigadier  Frederick 

went  straight  forward,  with  drooping  head,  walk- 
ing on  the  slope  at  the  edge  of  the  road,  my  mind 
a  blank,  from  having  thought  for  so  many  months 
of  our  abasement,  and  so  downcast  that  I  would 
have  given  my  life  for  nothing. 

On  the  plateau  of  Bugelberg,  just  outside  of 
the  forest,  seeing  before  me  about  three  leagues 
distant  the  little  city  looking  as  if  crushed  under 
the  gloomy  sky,  its  burned  houses,  its  ruined 
church,  its  ramparts  levelled  with  the  ground,  I 
stopped  for  a  moment,  leaning  on  my  stick  and 
recalling  bygone  days. 

How  many  times  during  the  past  twenty-five 
years  I  had  gone  there  on  Sundays  and  holidays 
with  my  poor  wife,  Catherine,  and  my  daughter, 
either  to  go  to  mass,  or  to  see  the  booths  of  the 
fair,  or  to  shake  hands  with  some  old  comrades, 
laughing,  happy,  thinking  that  everything  would 
continue  that  way  till  the  end  of  our  days  !  And 
all  the  vanished  joys,  the  old  friends,  who,  in  their 
little  gardens  at  the  foot  of  the  glacis,  called  to  us 
to  come  to  pick  currants  or  to  gather  a  bunch  of 
flowers,  seemed  to  return.  How  many  recollec- 
tions returned  to  me  !  I  could  not  remember 
them  all,  and  I  cried  to  myself : 

"  Oh  !  how  distant  those  things  are  !  Oh  ! 
who  would  ever  have  believed  that  this  misfor- 

i55 


Brigadier  Frederick 

tune  would  come  upon  us,  that  we,  Frenchmen 
and  Alsatians,  should  be  obliged  to  bow  our 
necks  to  the  Prussian  yoke  ! " 

My  sight  grew  dim,  and  I  set  out  again  on  my 
journey,  murmuring  in  my  soul  the  consolation  of 
all  the  wretched  :    t 

"  Bah  !  life  is  short.  Soon,  Frederick,  all  will 
be  forgotten.  So  take  courage,  you  have  not 
much  longer  to  suffer." 

I  seemed  also  to  hear  the  trumpet  of  our  joy- 
ous soldiers  ;  but  at  the  gate,  a  squad  of  Germans, 
in  big  boots,  and  their  sentinel,  with  bow-legs,  his 
gun  on  his  shoulder,  his  helmet  on  the  back  of 
his  neck,  and,  walking  to  and  fro  in  front  of  the 
guard-house,  recalled  to  me  our  position.  My 
old  comrade,  Thome\  city  overseer  and  collector 
of  the  city  duties,  beckoned  to  me  to  come  in. 
We  talked  over  our  misfortunes  ;  and,  seeing  that 
I  was  looking  at  a  company  of  Prussians  crossing 
the  bridge,  who,  holding  themselves  erect,  were 
keeping  step,  he  said  : 

"  Do  not  look  at  them,  Frederick,  they  are 
proud  when  one  looks  at  them  ;  they  think  that 
we  are  admiring  them." 

Then  I  turned  away  my  eyes,  and  having 
rested  for  a  few  minutes  I  entered  the  city. 


156 


Brigadier  Frederick 

XXIX 

Do  I  need  to  describe  to  you  now  the  desola- 
tion of  that  poor  Phalsbourg,  formerly  so  neat, 
the  little  houses  so  well  built,  the  large  parade 
ground,  so  gay  on  review  day  ?  Must  I  tell  you 
of  the  houses  fallen  over  on  each  other,  the  gables 
overturned,  the  chimneys  in  the  air  amid  the 
ruins ;  and  of  the  taverns  filled  with  Germans, 
eating,  drinking  and  laughing,  while  we,  with  long 
faces,  looking  scared,  wretched  and  ragged  after 
all  these  disasters,  saw  these  intruders  enjoying 
themselves  with  their  big  pay  taken  out  of  our 
pockets  ?  No,  only  at  the  thought  of  it,  my  heart 
sickens ;  it  is  a  thousand  times  worse  than  all  that 
people  relate. 

As  I  reached  the  corner  of  the  parade  ground, 
opposite  the  church  tower,  which  was  still  stand- 
ing, with  its  cracked  bells  and  its  virgin  with  up- 
lifted arms,  a  harsh  voice  called  from  the  state- 
house : 

"Htramtn* 

It  was  the  sergeant  of  the  station  who  was 
ordering  his  men  to  go  out ;  the  patrolling  officer 
was  coming,  the  others  hastened  from  the  guard- 
house and  formed  the  ranks  ;  it  was  noon.     I  had 

*  Get  out. 
157 


Brigadier  Frederick 


halted  in  consternation  before  the  Cafe*  Vacheron. 
A  crowd  of  poor  people,  homeless,  without  work 
and  without  food,  were  walking  backward  and  for- 
ward, shivering  with  their  hands  in  their  pockets 
up  to  the  elbows ;  and  I,  knowing  from  what 
Thome  had  said  that  the  military  hospital  and  the 
college  were  crowded  with  the  sick,  asked  myself 
if  I  could  find  a  doctor  to  visit  at  Graufthal  a 
poor  old  woman  at  the  point  of  death.  I  was 
overwhelmed  with  sadness  and  doubt.  I  did  not 
know  to  whom  to  address  myself  or  what  to  do, 
when  an  old  friend  of  the  forest  house,  Jacob 
Bause,  the  first  trout  fisher  of  the  valley,  began  to 
call  behind  me  : 

"  Hallo !  it  is  Father  Frederick  ?  Then  you 
are  still  in  the  land  of  the  living  ?  " 

He  shook  hands  and  seemed  so  glad  to  see  me 
that  I  was  touched  by  it. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "we  have  escaped,  thank  God. 
When  one  meets  people  now  one  almost  thinks 
that  they  have  been  resuscitated,  Unfortunate- 
ly grandmother  is  very  ill  and  I  do  not  know 
where  to  find  a  doctor  in  the  midst  of  this  confu- 
sion." 

He  advised  me  to  go  to  Dr.  Simperlin,  who 
lived  on  the  first  floor  of  the  Cafe*  Vacheron,  say- 
ing that  he  was  a  good  and  learned  man,  and  a 

158 


Brigadier  Frederick 

true  Frenchman,  who  would  not  refuse  to  accom- 
pany me,  in  spite  of  the  length  of  the  road  and 
the  work  he  had  in  the  town,  at  the  time  of  this 
extraordinary  press  of  business.  So  I  went  up 
stairs ;  and  Dr.  Simperlin,  who  was  just  sitting 
down  to  dinner,  promised  to  come  as  soon  as  he 
had  finished  his  repast.  Then,  feeling  a  little 
more  easy,  I  went  down  stairs  into  the  large 
coffee  room,  to  take  a  crust  of  bread  and  a  glass 
of  wine,  while  waiting  for  him.  The  room  was 
filled  with  landwehr ;  fat  citizens  in  uniform, 
brewers,  architects,  farmers,  bankers,  and  hotel- 
keepers,  come  to  take  possession  of  the  country 
under  the  command  of  the  Prussian  chiefs,  who 
made  them  march  like  puppets. 

All  these  people  had  their  pockets  full  of 
money,  and  to  forget  the  unpleasantness  of  their 
discipline  they  ate  as  many  sausages  with  sauer- 
kraut, and  as  much  ham  and  salad  with  cervelats 
as  our  veterans  used  formerly  to  drink  glasses  of 
brandy.  Some  drank  beer,  others  champagne  or 
burgundy,  each  according  to  their  means,  of 
course  without  offering  any  to  their  comrades — 
that  is  understood  ;  they  all  ate  with  two  hands, 
their  mouths  open  to  the  ears,  and  their  noses  in 
their  plates ;  and  all  that  I  say  to  you  is,  that  as 
this   muddy,  rainy   weather    prevented    us   from 

i59 


Brigadier  Frederick 

opening  the  windows,  one  had  sometimes  to  go 
outside  in  order  to  breathe. 

I  seated  myself  in  one  corner  with  my  mug  of 
beer,  looking  at  the  tobacco  smoke  curling  round 
the  ceiling,  and  the  servants  bringing  in  what  was 
wanted,  thinking  of  the  sick  grandmother,  of  the 
ruins  that  I  had  just  seen,  listening  to  the  Ger- 
mans, whom  I  did  not  understand,  for  they  spoke 
an  entirely  different  tongue  from  that  of  Alsace ; 
and  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  some  Phals- 
bourgers  were  talking  of  an  assistance  bureau  that 
was  being  organized  at  the  State  House,  of  a  soup 
kitchen  that  they  wished  to  establish  in  the  old 
cavalry  barracks,  for  the  poor ;  of  the  indemnities 
promised  by  the  Prussians,  and  on  which  they 
counted  but  little. 

The  time  passed  slowly.  I  had  ended  by  not 
listening  at  all,  thinking  of  my  own  misery,  when 
a  louder,  bolder  voice  drew  me  from  my  reflec- 
tions ;  I  looked  :  it  was  Toubac,  the  station-master 
of  Bockberg,  who  was  interrupting  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  Phalsbourgers,  who  cried,  audaciously 
thumping  the  table  with  his  big  fist : 

"  It  is  all  very  well  for  you,  city  people,  to  talk 
now  about  the  miseries  of  war.  You  were  behind 
your  ramparts,  and  when  the  shells  came  you  ran 
into  your  casemates.     No  one  could  take  anything 

160 


Brigadier  Frederick 

from  you.  Those  whose  houses  are  burned  will 
receive  larger  indemnities  than  they  are  worth ; 
the  old,  worm-eaten  furniture  will  be  replaced  by 
new,  and  more  than  one  whose  tongue  was  hang- 
ing before  the  campaign  can  rub  his  hands  and 
stick  out  his  stomach,  saying  :  '  The  war  has  made 
me  a  solid  citizen  ;  I  have  paid  my  debts  and  I 
pass  for  a  famous  warrior  because  my  cellar  was 
bullet  proof.  I  will  devote  myself  to  staying  in 
my  country  to  buy  cheap  the  goods  of  those  who 
are  going  away  with  the  money  from  my  indem- 
nities ;  I  will  sacrifice  myself  to  the  end  as  I  have 
done  from  the  beginning.'  Yes,  that  kind  of  war 
is  agreeable  ;  behind  strong  walls  all  goes  well. 
While  we  poor  peasants,  we  were  obliged  to  feed 
the  enemies,  to  give  them  hay,  straw,  barley,  oats, 
wheat,  and  even  our  cattle,  do  you  hear  ? — our  last 
resource.  They  took  my  two  cows,  and  now  who 
shall  I  ask  to  repay  me  for  them  ?  " 

This  was  too  much.  When  he  said  that,  the 
effrontery  of  the  rascal  made  me  so  indignant  that 
I  could  not  help  calling  to  him  from  my  place : 

*  Ah  !  wicked  scoundrel,  do  you  dare  to  boast 
of  your  sufferings  and  of  your  noble  conduct  dur- 
ing our  misfortunes  ?  Speak  of  your  sacrifices  and 
the  good  example  that  your  daughters  set.  Tell 
those  gentlemen  how,  having  searched  the  country 

161 


Brigadier  Frederick 

with  a  squad  of  Germans,  who  gave  you  your 
choice  among  all  the  animals  of  the  mountains 
and  the  plain,  to  replace  your  wretched  beasts, 
after  having  stolen,  by  this  means,  my  two  beauti- 
ful Swiss  cows,  you  are  not  yet  satisfied.  You 
dare  to  complain,  and  to  undervalue  honest  folk 
who  have  done  their  duty  ?  " 

As  I  spoke,  thinking  that  this  rascal  was  the 
cause  of  the  grandmother's  illness,  I  grew  more 
and  more  angry  ;  I  would  have  restrained  myself, 
but  it  was  too  much  for  me,  and  all  at  once,  seiz- 
ing my  stick  with  both  hands,  I  rushed  upon  him 
to  knock  him  down. 

Fortunately,  Fixeri,  the  baker,  who  was  sitting 
beside  this  rascal,  seeing  my  uplifted  stick,  parried 
the  blow  with  his  chair,  saying : 

"  Father  Frederick,  what  are  you  thinking 
about?" 

This  had  a  terrible  effect ;  all  the  room  was  in 
a  commotion  and  trying  to  separate  us.  He,  the 
thief,  finding  himself  behind  the  others,  shook  his 
fist  at  me  and  cried  : 

"  Old  rascal !  I  will  make  you  pay  for  that ! 
The  Germans  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  you. 
The  Oberforster  turned  you  out.  You  would 
have  liked  to  have  served  under  them,  but  they 
knew  you ;  they  slammed  the  door  in  your  face. 

162 


Brigadier  Frederick 

That  annoys  you.  You  insult  honest  people  ;  but 
look  out,  you  will  hear  from  me  soon." 

These  astounding  lies  made  me  still  more  furi- 
ous ;  it  took  five  or  six  men  to  hold  me,  so  as  to 
prevent  me  from  getting  at  him. 

I  should  have  ended  by  turning  everything 
upside  down,  if  the  landwehr  had  not  called  a 
party  of  watchmen  who  were  passing  along  the 
road.  Then,  hearing  the  butt  ends  of  the  muskets 
as  they  were  grounded  at  the  door,  and  seeing  the 
helmets  in  front  of  the  window,  I  sat  down  again, 
and  everything  calmed  down. 

The  corporal  came  in  ;  Mme.  Vacheron  made 
him  take  a  glass  of  wine  at  the  bar,  and  as  the 
noise  had  ceased,  after  wiping  his  mustaches,  he 
went  out,  making  the  military  salute.  But  Tou- 
bac  and  I  looked  at  each  other  with  sparkling  eyes 
and  quivering  lips.  He  knew,  the  wretch,  that 
now  his  shame  would  be  discovered  all  through 
the  city,  and  that  made  him  beside  himself  with 
rage. 

As  for  me,  I  thought,  "  Only  manage  to  be  in 
my  way  going  to  Biechelberg  ;  I  will  pay  you  off 
for  all  that  you  have  done  ;  the  poor  grandmother 
will  be  avenged." 

He,  doubtless,  had  the  same  thoughts,  for  he 
looked  at  me  sideways,  with  his  rascally  smile.     I 

163 


Brigadier  Frederick 

was  very  glad  when  Dr.  Simperlin  appeared  on 
the  threshold  of  the  room,  making  me  a  sign  to 
follow  him. 

I  left  at  once,  after  having  paid  for  my  glass 
of  wine,  and  we  set  out  for  Graufthal. 


XXX 


You  know,  George,  how  much  bad  weather 
adds  to  one's  melancholy.  It  was  sleeting,  the 
great  ruts  full  of  water  were  ruffled  by  the  wind. 
Dr.  Simperlin  and  I  walked  for  a  long  time  in 
silence,  one  behind  the  other,  taking  care  to  avoid 
the  puddles  in  which  one  could  sink  up  to  his 
knees. 

Farther  on,  after  having  passed  the  Biechel- 
berg,  on  the  firmer  ground  of  the  forest,  I  told 
the  doctor  about  the  offers  that  the  Oberforster 
had  made  to  us,  and  the  refusal  of  all  our  guards 
except  Jacob  Hepp  ;  of  our  leaving  the  forest 
house,  and  of  our  little  establishment  at  Ykel's,  in 
a  cold  corner  of  the  wretched  inn,  under  the  rocks, 
where  the  grandmother  had  not  ceased  to  cough 
for  six  weeks. 

He  listened  to  me  with  bent  head,  and  said  at 
the  end  that  it  was  verv  hard  to  leave  one's  home, 

164 


Brigadier  Frederick 

one's  fields,  one's  meadows,  and  the  trees  that  one 
has  planted  ;  but  that  one  should  nearer  draw  back 
before  one's  duty ;  and  that  he  also  was  about  to 
leave  the  country  with  his  wife  and  children, 
abandoning  his  practice,  the  fruit  of  his  labour  for 
many  years,  so  as  not  to  become  one  of  the  herd 
of  King  William. 

Talking  thus,  about  three  o'clock,  we  reached 
the  wretched  tavern  of  Graufthal.  We  ascended 
the  little  staircase.  Marie-Rose  had  heard  us  ;  she 
was  at  the  door,  and  hastened  to  offer  a  chair  to 
Dr.  Simperlin. 

The  doctor  looked  at  the  black  beams  of  the 
ceiling,  the  narrow  windows,  the  little  stove,  and 
said  : 

"It  is  very  small  and  very  dark  for  people  ac- 
customed to  the  open  air." 

He  was  thinking  of  our  pretty  house  in  the 
valley,  with  its  large,  shining  windows,  its  white 
walls.     Ah  !  the  times  had  changed  sadly. 

At  last,  having  rested  for  a  few  minutes,  to  get 
his  breath,  he  said  : 

"  Let  us  go  see  the  invalid." 

We  entered  the  little  side  room  together.  The 
day  was  declining  ;  we  had  to  light  the  lamp,  and 
the  doctor,  leaning  over  the  bed,  looked  at  the 
poor  old  woman,  saying  : 

165 


Brigadier  Frederick 

44  Well,  grandmother  Anne,  I  was  passing  by 
Graufthal,  and  Father  Frederick  beckoned  me  in ; 
he  told  me  that  you  were  not  very  well." 

Then  the  grandmother,  entirely  aroused,  recog- 
nised him  and  answered : 

"  Ah  !  it  is  you,  M.  Simperlin.  Yes,  yes ;  I 
have  suffered,  and  I  suffer  still.  God  grant  it 
will  soon  be  over  ! " 

She  was  so  yellow,  so  wrinkled  and  so  thin, 
that  one  thought  when  one  looked  at  her : 

44  Good  heavens,  how  can  our  poor  lady  con- 
tinue to  exist  in  such  a  condition  ! " 

And  her  hair,  formerly  gray,  now  white  as 
snow,  her  hollow  cheeks,  her  eyes  glittering,  and 
a  forehead  all  shrivelled  with  wrinkles,  made  her, 
so  to  speak,  unrecognisable. 

The  doctor  questioned  her ;  she  answered  very 
well  to  all  his  questions.  He  listened  with  his  ear 
at  her  chest,  and  then  at  her  back,  while  I  held  her 
up.     At  last  he  said,  smiling  : 

44  Well,  well,  grandmother,  we  are  not  yet  in 
danger.  This  bad  cold  will  pass  away  with  the 
winter ;  only  you  must  keep  yourself  warm,  and 
not  give  way  to  sad  thoughts.  You  will  soon  re- 
turn to  the  forest  house  ;  all  this  cannot  last." 

44  Yes,  yes,"  said  she,  looking  at  us.  44 1  hope 
that  all  will  come  right ;  but  I  am  very  old." 

166 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"  Bah  !  when  one  has  kept  up  like  you,  is  one 
old  ?  All  this  has  been  caused  by  a  draught ; 
you  must  take  care  of  draughts,  Mile.  Marie- 
Rose.  Come,  keep  up  your  courage,  grand- 
mother." 

So  said  the  doctor ;  the  grandmother  seemed  a 
little  reassured. 

We  left  the  room,  and  outside,  when  I  was 
questioning  him  and  my  daughter  was  listening, 
Dr.  Simperlin  asked  me  : 

"  Shall  I  speak  before  Mile.  Marie-Rose  ?  " 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  "for  my  poor  daughter 
takes  care  of  the  invalid,  and  she  ought  to  know 
all ;  if  the  illness  is  serious,  if  we  are  to  lose  the 
last  creature  who  loves  us  and  whom  we  love — 
well,  it  is  always  best  to  know  it  beforehand,  than 
to  be  struck  by  the  misfortune  without  having 
been  warned." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  the  poor  woman  is  ill  not 
only  because  of  her  old  age,  but  principally  be- 
cause of  the  grief  which  is  sapping  her  constitu- 
tion. She  has  something  preying  upon  her  mind, 
and  it  is  that  which  makes  her  cough.  Take  care 
not  to  grieve  her ;  hide  your  troubles  from  her. 
Always  look  gay  before  her.  Tell  her  that  you 
have  strong  hopes.  If  she  looks  at  you,  smile 
at  her.     If  she  is  uneasy,  tell  her  it  is  nothing. 

167 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Let  no  one  come  in,  for  fear  they  should  tell 
her  bad  news ;  that  is  the  best  remedy  I  can  give 
you." 

While  he  spoke,  Marie-Rose,  who  was  very 
much  alarmed,  was  coughing  behind  her  hand,  with 
a  little  hacking  cough ;  he  interrupted  himself,  and, 
looking  at  her,  he  said  : 

"  Have  you  coughed  like  that  for  any  length 
of  time,  Mile.  Marie-Rose?" 

"  For  some  time,"  she  answered,  flushing. 

Then  he  took  her  arm  and  felt  her  pulse,  say- 
ing as  he  did  so  : 

"  You  must  be  careful  and  look  after  yourself, 
too  ;  this  place  is  not  healthy.  Have  you  fever  at 
nights?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Well,  so  much  the  better ;  but  you  must  take 
care  of  yourself ;  you  must  think  as  little  as  pos- 
sible of  sad  things." 

Having  said  that,  he  took  his  hat  from  my  bed 
and  his  cane  from  the  corner,  and  said  to  me,  as 
we  were  descending  the  stairs  together  : 

"  You  must  come  to  the  city  to-morrow,  and 
you  will  find  a  little  bottle  at  the  shop  of  Reeb, 
the  apothecary ;  you  must  give  three  drops  of  it, 
in  a  glass  of  water,  morning  and  evening,  to  the 
grandmother ;  it  is  to  calm  that  suffocating  feel- 

168 


Brigadier  Frederick 

ing ;  and  look  after  your  daughter,  too  ;  she  is  very 
much  changed.  When  I  remember  Marie-Rose,  as 
fresh  and  as  healthy  as  she  was,  six  months  ago,  it 
makes  me  uneasy.     Take  care  of  her." 

"  Gracious  Heavens  ! "  said  I  to  myself,  in  de- 
spair ;  "  take  care  of  her !  Yes,  yes,  if  I  could  give 
her  my  own  existence  ;  but  how  take  care  of  peo- 
ple who  are  overwhelmed  by  fears,  grief,  and 
regrets  ?  " 

And,  thinking  of  it,  I  could  have  cried  like  a 
child.  M.  Simperlin  saw  it,  and,  on  the  threshold, 
shaking  my  hand,  he  said  : 

"  We,  too,  are  very  sick ;  is  it  not  so,  Father 
Frederick  ?  Yes,  terribly  sick.  Our  hearts  are 
breaking ;  each  thought  kills  us  ;  but  we  are  men  ; 
we  must  have  courage  enough  for  everybody." 

I  wanted  to  accompany  him  at  least  to  the  end 
of  the  valley,  for  the  night  had  come ;  but  he  re- 
fused, saying  : 

"  I  know  the  way.  Go  up  stairs,  Father  Fred- 
erick, and  be  calm  before  your  mother  and  your 
daughter  ;  it  is  necessary." 

He  then  went  away  and  I  returned  to  our 
apartments. 


i«9 


Brigadier  Frederick 

XXXI 

Two  or  three  days  passed  away.  I  had  gone 
to  the  town  to  get  the  potion  that  the  doctor  had 
ordered  from  Reeb,  the  apothecary  ;  the  grand- 
mother grew  calmer  ;  she  coughed  less  ;  we  talked 
to  her  only  of  peace,  tranquility,  and  the  return  of 
Jean  Merlin,  and  the  poor  woman  was  slowly  re- 
covering ;  when,  one  morning,  two  Prussian  gens- 
d'armes  stopped  at  the  inn  ;  as  those  people  usu- 
ally passed  on  without  halting,  it  surprised  me, 
and,  a  few  moments  later,  Father  Ykel's  daughter 
came  to  tell  me  to  go  down  stairs,  that  some  one 
was  asking  for  me. 

When  I  went  down,  I  found  those  two  tall  fel- 
lows, with  jack-boots,  standing  in  the  middle  of 
the  room ;  their  helmets  almost  touched  the  ceil- 
ing. They  asked  me  if  they  were  speaking  to  the 
person  known  as  Frederick,  formerly  the  brigadier 
forester  of  Tomenthal.  I  answered  in  the  affirm- 
ative ;  and  one  of  them,  taking  off  his  big  gloves, 
in  order  to  fumble  in  his  knapsack,  gave  me  a  let- 
ter, which  I  read  at  once. 

It  was  an  order  from  the  commander  of  Phals- 
bourg  to  leave  the  country  within  twenty-four 
hours ! 

You  understand,  George,  what  an  impression 
170 


Brigadier  Frederick 

that  made  on  me  ;  I  turned  pale  and  asked  what 
could  have  drawn  upon  me  so  terrible  a  sentence. 

"  That  is  no  affair  of  ours,"  answered  one  of 
the gens-d }armes.  "Try  to  obey,  or  we  will  have 
to  take  other  measures." 

Thereupon  they  mounted  their  horses  again 
and  rode  off ;  and  Father  Ykel,  alone  with  me, 
seeing  me  cast  down  and  overwhelmed  by  such  an 
abomination,  not  knowing  himself  what  to  say,  or 
to  think,  cried  out : 

11  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  Frederick,  what 
have  you  been  doing?  You  are  not  a  man  of 
any  importance,  and,  in  our  little  village,  I  should 
have  thought  they  would  have  forgotten  you 
long  ago  ! " 

I  made  no  reply ;  I  remembered  nothing ;  I 
thought  only  of  the  grief  of  my  daughter  and  of 
the  poor  old  grandmother  when  they  learned  of 
this  new  misfortune. 

However,  at  last  I  remembered  my  imprudent 
words  at  the  Cafe  Vacheron,  the  day  of  my  dis- 
pute with  Toubac ;  and  Father  Ykel  at  the  first 
word  told  me  that  it  all  came  from  that ;  that  Tou- 
bac had  certainly  denounced  me  ;  that  there  was 
only  one  thing  left  for  me  to  do,  and  that  was  to 
go  at  once  to  the  commander  and  beg  him  to  grant 
me  a  little  time,  in  consideration  of  the  grand- 

171 

I— Vol.  11 


Brigadier  Frederick 

mother,  over  eighty  years  of  age,  seriously  ill,  and 
wlio  would  certainly  die  on  the  road.  He  also 
sent  for  the  schoolmaster,  and  gave  me,  as  Mayor 
of  the  parish,  a  regular  attestation  concerning  my 
good  qualities,  my  excellent  antecedents,  the  un- 
happy position  of  our  family  ;  in  short,  he  said  all 
the  most  touching  and  the  truest  things  that  could 
be  said  on  such  an  occasion.  He  also  recom- 
mended me  to  go  to  M.  Simperlin,  too,  and  get  a 
certificate  of  illness,  to  confirm  his  attestation, 
thinking  that  thus  the  commander  would  be 
touched  and  would  wait  till  the  poor  old  woman 
was  well  enough  to  travel. 

In  my  trouble,  seeing  nothing  else  to  do,  I  set 
out.  Marie-Rose  knew  nothing  of  it,  nor  the 
grandmother,  either ;  I  had  not  the  courage  to 
announce  the  blow  that  was  threatening  us.  To 
set  out  alone,  to  fly  far  away  from  those  savages, 
who  coolly  plunged  us  into  all  sorts  of  miseries, 
would  have  been  nothing  to  me  ;  but  the  others ! 
Ah  !  I  dared  not  think  of  it ! 

Before  noon  I  was  at  Phalsbourg,  in  a  fright- 
ful state  of  wretchedness  ;  all  the  misfortunes  that 
crushed  us  rose  before  my  eyes. 

I  saw  the  doctor,  who  declared  simply  in  his 
certificate  that  the  invalid,  who  was  old,  weak, 
and,  moreover,  entirely  without  resources,  could 

172 


Brigadier  Frederick 

not  stand  a  journey,  even  of  two  hours,  without 
dying. 

"  There,"  said  he,  giving  me  the  paper,  "that  is 
the  exact  truth.  I  might  add  that  your  departure 
will  kill  her  also"  but  that  would  be  nothing  to  the 
commander ;  if  this  does  not  touch  his  heart,  the 
rest  would  be  useless  also." 

I  went  then  to  the  commander's  quarters,  which 
were  in  the  old  government  house,  in  the  Rue  du 
College.  The  humiliation  of  addressing  supplica- 
tions to  rascals  whom  I  detested  was  not  the  least 
of  my  sorrows ;  that  I,  an  old  French  forester,  an 
old  servant  of  the  state,  gray-headed  and  on  the 
point  of  retiring  on  a  pension,  should  stoop  to  im- 
plore compassion  from  enemies  as  hard-hearted,  as 
proud  of  their  victories,  gained  by  sheer  force  of 
numbers,  as  they  were  !  However,  for  the  grand- 
mother, for  the  widow  of  old  Burat,  I  could  bear 
everything. 

A  tall  rogue,  in  uniform,  and  with  red  whiskers, 
made  me  wait  a  long  time  in  the  vestibule ;  they 
were  at  breakfast,  and  only  about  one  o'clock  was 
I  allowed  to  go  up  stairs.  Up  there  another  sen- 
tinel stopped  me,  and  then,  having  received  per- 
mission to  enter  a  rather  large  room,  opening  on 
the  garden  of  the  Arsenal,  I  knocked  at  the  com- 
mander's door,  who  told  me  to  come  in.     I  saw  a 

i73 


Brigadier  Frederick 

large,  red-faced  man,  who  was  walking  to  and  fro, 
smoothing  down  the  sleeves  of  his  uniform  and 
puffing  out  his  cheeks  in  an  ill-natured  way.  I 
told  him  humbly  of  my  position,  and  gave  him 
my  certificates,  which  he  did  not  even  take  the 
trouble  to  read,  but  flung  them  on  the  table. 

"  That  has  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  it,"  said 
he  sharply;  "you  are  described  as  a  dangerous 
person,  a  determined  enemy  of  the  Germans.  You 
prevented  your  men  from  entering  our  service ; 
your  son-in-law  has  gone  to  join  the  bandits  of 
Gambetta.  You  boasted  openly  in  a  restaurant 
of  having  refused  the  offers  of  the  Oberforster  of 
Zornstadt ;  that  is  four  times  more  than  is  neces- 
sary to  deserve  being  turned  out  of  doors." 

I  spoke  of  the  grandmother's  condition. 

"  Well !  leave  her  in  her  bed,"  said  he ;  "  the 
order  of  the  Kreissdirector  is  for  you  alone." 

Then,  without  listening  to  me  any  longer,  he 
went  into  a  side  room,  calling  a  servant,  and  closed 
the  door  behind  him.  I  went  down  stairs  again, 
feeling  utterly  crushed ;  my  last  hope  was  gone  ;  I 
had  no  other  resource  ;  I  had  to  leave ;  I  had  to 
announce  this  bad  news  to  my  daughter,  to  the 
grandmother !  I  knew  what  would  be  the  result 
of  it ;  and,  with  hanging  head,  I  went  through 
that  German  doorway,  the  bridge,  the  sentinels, 

174 


Brigadier  Frederick 

without  seeing  anything.  On  the  glacis,  at  Bie- 
chelberg,  all  along  the  road  through  the  woods 
and  through  the  valley,  I  was  as  if  mad  with 
despair ;  I  talked  to  myself,  I  cried  out,  looking 
at  the  trees  and  raising  my  hand  toward  heaven. 

"  Now  the  curse  is  upon  us  !  Now  pity,  the 
disgrace  of  crime,  the  remorse  of  conscience  are 
abolished !  Nothing  is  left  now  but  strength. 
Let  them  exterminate  us,  let  them  cut  our 
throats !  Let  the  rascals  strangle  the  old  woman 
in  her  bed ;  let  them  hang  my  daughter  before 
the  door,  and  as  for  me,  let  them  chop  me  into 
pieces !  That  would  be  better.  That  would  be 
less  barbarous  than  to  tear  us  from  each  other's 
arms ;  to  force  the  son  to  abandon  his  mother  on 
her  death-bed ! " 

And  I  continued  on  my  road,  stumbling  along. 
The  forests,  the  ravines,  the  rocks  seemed  to  me 
full  of  those  old  brigands,  of  those  Pandoms  of 
whom  I  had  heard  tell  in  my  childhood ;  I  thought 
I  heard  them  singing  round  their  fires,  as  they 
shared  the  plunder ;  all  the  old  miseries  of  the 
time  before  the  great  revolution  came  back  to 
me.  The  distant  trumpet  of  the  Prussians  in 
the  city  that  sounded  its  three  wild  notes  to  the 
echoes,  seemed  to  me  to  arouse  those  old  villains 
who  had  been  reduced  to  dust  centuries  before. 

175 


Brigadier  Frederick 

XXXII 

All  at  once  the  sight  of  the  cottages  of 
Graufthal  aroused  me  from  my  dreams ;  I  shivered 
at  the  thought  that  the  moment  was  come  to 
speak,  to  tell  my  daughter  and  the  grandmother 
that  I  was  banished,  driven  away  from  the  coun- 
try. It  seemed  to  me  like  a  sentence  of  death 
that  I  myself  was  about  to  pronounce  against 
those  whom  I  loved  best  in  the  world.  I  slack- 
ened my  steps  so  as  not  to  arrive  too  quickly, 
when,  raising  my  eyes,  after  having  passed  the 
first  houses,  I  saw  Marie-Rose  waiting  in  the  dark 
little  entry  of  the  inn  ;  my  first  glance  at  her  told 
me  that  she  knew  all. 

"  Well,  father  ? "  said  she  in  a  low  voice,  as  she 
stood  on  the  threshold. 

"  Well,"  I  answered,  trying  to  be  calm,  "  I 
must  go.  But  you  two  can  stay — they  have 
granted  you  permission  to  stay." 

At  the  same  time  I  heard  the  grandmother 
moaning  up  stairs  in  her  bed.  Katel,  that  morn- 
ing, directly  after  I  set  out,  had  gone  up  stairs  to 
tell  my  daughter  the  bad  news ;  the  poor  old 
woman  had  heard  all.  The  news  had  already 
spread  through  the  village ;  the  people  round  us 
were   listening ;    and,  seeing   that   the   blow  had 

176 


Brigadier  Frederick 

fallen,  I  told  all  who  wished  to  hear  how  the 
Prussian  commander  had  received  me.  The 
crowd  of  neighbours  listened  to  me  without  a 
word ;  all  were  afraid  of  sharing  my  fate.  The 
grandmother  had  heard  my  voice,  and  she  called 
me : 

11  Frederick  !  Frederick  !  " 

When  I  heard  her  voice,  a  cold  perspiration 
broke  out  on  my  face.  I  went  up  stairs,  an- 
swering : 

"  Here  I  am,  grandmother,  here  I  am !  Don't 
cry  so  !  It  will  not  last  long.  I  will  come  back  ! 
Now  they  distrust  me.  They  are  wrong,  grand- 
mother ;  but  the  others  are  the  strongest !  " 

"Ah  !"  she  cried,  "you  are  going  away,  Fred- 
erick— you  are  going  away  like  poor  Jean.  I 
knew  that  he  had  gone  away  to  fight.  I  knew 
all.     I  will  never  see  either  of  you  again." 

"  Why  not,  grandmother,  why  not  ?  In  a  few 
weeks  I  will  be  allowed  to  come  back,  and  Jean 
will  come  back,  too,  after  the  war ! " 

"  I  will  never  see  you  again ! "  she  cried. 

And  her  sobs  grew  louder.  The  people,  curi- 
ous, and  even  cruel  in  their  curiosity,  had  come 
up  stairs  one  after  another ;  our  three  little  rooms 
were  filled  with  them ;  they  held  their  breath,  they 
had  left  their  sabots  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  ;  they 

m 


Brigadier  Frederick 

wanted  to  see  and  hear  everything;  but  then, 
seeing  the  poor  old  woman  in  the  shadow  of  her 
great  gray  curtains,  sobbing  and  holding  out  her 
arms  to  me,  almost  all  hastened  to  go  down  stairs 
again  and  to  return  to  their  homes.  No  one  was 
left  but  big  Starck,  Father  Ykel,  and  his  daughter, 
Katel. 

"  Grandmother  Anne,"  said  Father  Ykel,  "  don't 
get  such  ideas  into  your  head.  Frederick  is  right. 
You  must  be  reasonable.  When  peace  is  declared 
all  will  be  right  again.  You  are  eighty-three  years 
old  and  I  am  nearly  seventy.  What  does  that 
matter  ?  I  hope  to  see  again  Jean,  Father  Fred- 
erick, and  all  those  who  are  gone." 

"Ah!"  said  she,  "I  have  suffered  too  much; 
now  it  is  all  over  ! " 

And  till  night  she  did  nothing  but  cry. 
Marie-Rose,  always  courageous,  opened  the  cup- 
boards and  packed  up  my  bundle,  for  I  had  no 
time  to  lose  ;  the  next  day  I  must  be  on  my  road. 
She  took  out  my  clothes  and  my  best  shirts  and 
put  them  on  the  table,  asking  me,  in  a  low  voice, 
while  the  grandmother  continued  to  cry : 
.  "  You  will  take  this,  father  ?    And  that  ? " 

I  answered  : 

"  Do  as  you  think  best,  my  daughter.  I  have 
no  sense  left  to  think  of  anything  with.     Only 

178 


Brigadier  Frederick 

put  my  uniform  in  the  bundle — that  is  the  prin- 
cipal thing." 

Ykel,  knowing  that  we  were  pressed  for  time, 
told  us  not  to  worry  about  the  supper,  that  we 
should  sup  with  them.     We  accepted. 

That  evening,  George,  we  spoke  little  at  table. 
Katel  was  up  stairs  with  the  grandmother.  And 
when  night  came,  as  my  bundle  was  packed,  we 
went  to  bed  early. 

You  may  readily  believe  that  I  slept  but  little. 
The  moans  of  the  grandmother,  and  then  my 
reflections,  the  uncertainty  as  to  my  destination, 
the  small  amount  of  money  that  I  could  take 
with  me,  for  I  had  to  leave  enough  to  live  on  at 
home — all  these  things  kept  me  awake  in  spite  of 
my  fatigue  and  the  grief  that  was  weighing  me 
down.  And  all  through  that  long  night  I  asked 
myself  where  I  should  go,  what  I  should  do,  what 
road  I  should  take,  to  whom  I  should  address  my- 
self in  order  to  make  my  living  ?  Turning  these 
ideas  over  a  hundred  times  in  my  head,  I  at  last 
remembered  my  former  chief  of  the  guards,  M. 
d'Arence,  one  of  the  best  men  I  had  ever  known, 
who  had  always  liked  me,  and  even  protected  me 
during  the  time  that  I  was  under  his  orders  as  a 
simple  guard  many  years  before  ;  I  remembered 
that  people  said  that  he  had  retired  to  Saint  Die\ 

179 


Brigadier  Frederick 

and  I  hoped,  if  I  had  the  good  luck  to  find  him 
yet  alive,  that  he  would  receive  me  well  and 
would  help  me  a  little  in  my  misfortune.  This 
idea  occurred  to  me  towards  morning ;  I  thought 
it  a  good  one,  and  I  fell  asleep  for  an  hour  or  two. 
But  at  daybreak  I  was  up.  The  terrible  moment 
was  approaching ;  I  was  scarcely  out  of  bed,  the 
grandmother  heard  me  and  called  to  me.  Marie- 
Rose  was  also  up ;  she  had  prepared  our  farewell 
breakfast ;  Ykel  had  sent  up  a  bottle  of  wine. 

Having  dressed  myself,  I  went  into  the  grand- 
mother's room,  trying  to  keep  up  my  spirits,  but 
knowing  that  I  would  never  see  her  again. 

She  seemed  calmer,  and,  calling  me  to  her,  she 
threw  her  arms  round  my  neck,  saying : 

M  My  son,  for  you  have  been  my  son — a  good 
son  to  me — my  son  Frederick,  I  bless  you  !  I 
wish  you  all  the  happiness  that  you  deserve.  Ah ! 
wishes  are  not  worth  much,  nor  the  blessings  of 
poor  people  either.  Without  that,  dear  Frederick, 
you  would  not  have  been  so  unhappy." 

She  wept,  and  I  could  not  restrain  my  tears. 
Marie-Rose,  standing  at  the  foot  of  the  bed, 
sobbed  silently. 

And  as  the  grandmother  still  held  me,  I  said  : 

"  See  here,  grandmother,  your  benediction  and 
your  kind  words  do  me  as  much  good  as  if  you 

1 80 


Brigadier  Frederick 

could  give  me  all  the  riches  of  the  world ;  it  is 
my  consolation  to  think  that  I  will  see  you  soon 
again." 

"  Perhaps  we  will  meet  again  in  heaven,"  said 
she  ;  "  but  here  on  this  earth  I  must  say  farewell. 
Farewell,  Frederick,  farewell." 

She  held  me  tightly  embraced,  kissing  me  with 
her  trembling  lips  ;  and  then,  having  released  me 
and  turned  away  her  head,  she  held  my  hand  for 
a  minute,  and,  beginning  to  sob  again,  she  repeated, 
in  a  low  voice  :  "  Farewell ! " 

I  left  the  room ;  my  strength  failed  me.  In 
the  side  room  I  took  a  glass  of  wine  and  I  put 
a  piece  of  bread  in  my  pocket ;  Marie-Rose  was 
with  me ;  I  beckoned  her  to  come  down  stairs 
softly,  so  that  the  grandmother  should  not  hear 
our  sobs  at  the  moment  of  parting. 

We  went  silently  down  stairs  into  the  large 
lower  room,  where  Father  Ykel  awaited  us  with 
some  other  friends;  Starck,  who  had  helped  us 
to  move  from  the  forest  house,  Hulot,  and  some 
other  good  people. 

We  bade  each  other  farewell ;  then  in  the  entry 
I  kissed  Marie-Rose,  as  an  unhappy  father  kisses 
his  child,  and  in  that  kiss  I  wished  her  everything 
that  a  man  can  wish  to  the  being  whom  he  loves 
better  than  his  life,  and  whom  he  esteems  as  one 

181 


Brigadier  Frederick 

esteems  virtue,  courage,  and  goodness.  And  then, 
with  my  bundle  slung  on  the  end  of  a  stick,  I 
went  away  without  turning  my  head. 


XXXIII 


The  path  of  exile  is  long,  George,  and  the 
first  steps  that  one  takes  are  painful.  He  who 
said  that  we  do  not  drag  with  us  our  country  fast- 
ened to  the  soles  of  our  shoes,  was  learned  in 
human  suffering. 

And  when  you  leave  behind  you  your  child; 
when  you  seem  to  hear  as  you  walk  along  the 
grandmother's  voice  saying  farewell ;  when  from 
the  top  of  the  mountain  that  sheltered  you  from 
the  wind  and  covered  you  with  its  shadow,  at  the 
last  turn  of  the  path,  before  the  descent,  you  turn 
and  look  at  your  valley,  your  cottage,  your  orchard, 
thinking,  "You  will  never  see  them  more!" 
then,  George,  it  seems  as  if  the  earth  holds  you 
back,  as  if  the  trees  were  extending  their  arms 
towards  you,  as  if  the  child  was  weeping  in  the 
distance,  as  if  the  grandmother  was  calling  you 
back  in  the  name  of  God ! 

Yes,  I  felt  all  that  on  the  hill  of  Berlingen, 
and  I  shudder  yet  when  I  think  of  it.     And  to 

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Brigadier  Frederick 

think  that  worms  like  us  dare  to  inflict  such  suffer- 
ings on  their  fellow-creatures  !  May  the  Almighty 
have  mercy  upon  them,  for  the  hour  of  justice 
will  surely  come. 

I  tore  myself  away  and  continued  my  jour- 
ney. I  went  away;  I  descended  the  hill  with 
bent  back,  and  the  dear  country  gradually  van- 
ished into  the  distance.  Oh  !  how  I  suffered,  and 
how  many  distant  thoughts  came  back  to  me ! 
The  forests,  the  firs,  the  old  saw-mills  passed 
away. 

I  was  approaching  Schonbourg,  and  I  began  to 
descend  the  second  hill,  lost  in  my  reveries  and 
my  despair,  when  all  at  once  a  man  with  his  gun 
slung  over  his  shoulder  emerged  from  the  forest 
about  a  hundred  yards  in  front  of  me,  looking 
towards  me.  This  sight  awoke  me  from  my  sad 
thoughts;  I  raised  my  eyes.  It  was  Hepp,  the  old 
brigadier,  whom  the  Prussians  had  won  over,  and 
who  was  the  only  man  among  us  that  had  entered 
their  service. 

"Hillo!"  said  he,  in  amazement,  "it  is  you, 
Father  Frederick!" 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  "  it  is  I." 

*  But  where  are  you  going  so  early  in  the 
morning  with  your  bundle  on  your  shoulder  ?  " 

"I  am  going  where  God  wills.  The  Germans 
183 


Brigadier  Frederick 

have  turned  me  out.  I  am  going  to  earn  my  liv- 
ing elsewhere." 

He  turned  very  pale.  I  had  stopped  for  a 
minute  to  breathe. 

"  How  ! "  said  he,  "  they  are  turning  you  out 
of  doors  at  your  age — you,  an  old  forester,  an  hon- 
est man,  who  never  did  harm  to  any  one  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  they  do  not  want  me  in  this  country 
any  longer.  They  have  given  me  twenty-four 
hours  in  which  to  quit  old  Alsace,  and  I  am  on 
my  way." 

"And  Marie-Rose  and  the  grandmother?" 

"  They  are  at  Graufthal,  at  Ykel's.  The  grand- 
mother is  dying.     The  others  will  bury  her." 

Hepp,  with  drooping  head  and  eyes  cast  down, 
lifted  up  his  hands,  saying :  "  What  a  pity !  what 
a  pity  ! " 

I  made  no  reply,  and  wiped  my  face,  which 
was  covered  with  perspiration.  After  a  moment's 
pause,  without  looking  at  me,  he  said : 

"  Ah  !  if  I  had  been  alone  with  my  wife  !  But 
I  have  six  children.  I  am  their  father.  I  could 
not  let  them  die  of  hunger.  You  had  a  little 
money  laid  aside.     I  had  not  a  sou" 

Then,  seeing  this  man  with  a  good  situation — 
for  he  was  a  German  brigadier  forester — seeing 
this  man  making  excuses  to  a  poor,  wretched  exile 

184 


Brigadier  Frederick 

like  me,  I  did  not  know  any  more  than  he  did 
what  to  answer,  and  I  said  : 

"That  is  the  way  of  the  world.  Every  one 
has  his  burden  to  bear.  Well !  well !  good-bye  till 
I  see  you  again." 

He  wanted  to  shake  hands  with  me,  but  I 
looked  another  way,  and  continued  my  journey, 
thinking : 

"  That  man,  Frederick,  is  even  more  unhappy 
than  you  ;  his  grief  is  terrible ;  he  has  sold  his 
conscience  to  the  Prussians  for  a  piece  of  black 
bread  ;  at  least  you  can  look  every  one  in  the  face  ; 
you  can  say,  in  spite  of  your  misery,  '  I  am  an 
honest  man,'  and  he  does  not  dare  to  look  at  an 
old  comrade  ;  he  blushes,  he  hangs  his  head.  The 
others  have  profited  by  the  fact  of  his  having  six 
children  to  buy  him." 

And,  thinking  of  that,  I  grew  a  little  more 
courageous,  knowing  that  I  had  done  well,  in  spite 
of  everything,  and  that  in  Hepp's  place  I  would 
have  hanged  myself  long  ago  in  some  corner  of 
the  wood.  That  comforted  me  a  little.  What 
would  you  have  ?  One  is  always  glad  to  have 
done  the  best  thing,  even  when  one  had  nothing 
to  choose  between  but  the  greatest  of  misfortunes. 

Then  those  thoughts  vanished,  too  ;  others  took 
their  place.    I  must  tell  you  that  in  all  the  villages, 

185 


Brigadier  Frederick 

and  even  in  the  smallest  hamlets  I  passed  through, 
the  poor  people,  seeing  me  travelling  at  my  age, 
with  my  bundle  slung  over  my  shoulder,  received 
me  kindly ;  they  knew  that  I  was  one  of  those 
who  were  being  sent  away  from  the  country  be- 
cause they  loved  France  ;  the  women  standing  be- 
fore their  doors  with  their  children  in  their  arms 
said  to  me,  with  emotion,  "  God  guide  you  I" 

In  the  little  taverns,  where  I  halted  from  time 
to  time  to  recruit  my  strength,  at  Lutzelbourg,  at 
Dabo,  at  Viche,  they  would  not  receive  any  money 
from  me.  As  soon  as  I  had  said,  "  I  am  an  old 
brigadier  forester ;  the  Germans  have  exiled  me 
because  I  would  not  enter  their  service,"  I  had  the 
respect  of  everybody. 

Naturally,  also,  I  did  not  accept  the  kind  offers 
they  made  me  ;  I  paid  my  way,  for  at  this  time  of 
forced  requisitions  no  one  had  anything  too  much. 

The  whole  country  sympathized  with  the  re- 
public, and  the  nearer  I  got  towards  the  Vosges 
the  more  they  spoke  of  Garibaldi,  of  Gambetta, 
of  Chanzy,  of  Faidherbe  ;  but  also  the  requisitions 
were  larger  and  the  villages  overrun  with  landwekr. 

At  Schirmeck,  where  I  arrived  the  same  day, 
about  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  I  saw,  on  en- 
tering the  inn,  a  Feldwebel,  a  schoolmaster,  and 
a  commissioner,  who  were  drinking  and  smoking 

186 


Brigadier  Frederick 

among  a  quantity  of  their  people,  who  were  seated 
at  tables  like  themselves. 

They  all  turned  round  and  stared  at  me,  while 
I  asked  a  lodging  for  the  night. 

The  commissioner  ordered  me  to  show  him 
my  papers ;  he  examined  them  minutely,  the  sig- 
natures and  the  stamps  ;  then  he  said  to  me  : 

"  You  are  all  right  at  present,  but  by  daybreak 
to-morrow  you  must  be  on  your  way." 

After  that  the  innkeeper  ventured  to  serve  me 
with  food  and  drink  ;  and,  as  the  inn  was  filled 
with  the  German  officials,  they  took  me  to  the 
barn,  where  I  fell  asleep  on  a  heap  of  straw.  It 
was  freezing  outside,  but  the  barn  was  near  the 
stable  ;  it  was  warm  there  ;  I  slept  well  because  of 
my  fatigue.  Slumber,  George,  is  the  consolation 
of  the  wretched  ;  if  I  had  to  speak  of  the  good- 
ness of  God,  I  would  say  that  every  day  He  calls 
us  to  Him  for  a  few  hours  to  make  us  forget  our 
misfortunes. 


XXXIV 


The  next  day  a  sort  of  calm  had  replaced  my 
dejection  ;  I  went  away  more  resolute,  hastening 
across  the  plain  to  reach  Rothau.  I  began  to 
think  of  Jean  Merlin.     Perhaps  be  had  followed 

187 


Brigadier  Frederick 

the  same  route  as  I,  for  it  was  the  shortest.  How 
glad  I  would  be  if  I  could  hear  some  news  of  him 
on  my  way,  to  send  to  Marie-Rose  and  the  grand- 
mother ;  what  a  consolation  it  would  be  in  our 
misfortune  !  But  I  must  not  hope  for  it,  so  many 
others  during  the  last  three  months  had  climbed 
from  Rothau  to  Provencheres,  French  and  Ger- 
mans, strangers  whom  no  one  could  have  remem- 
bered. 

Nevertheless,  I  thought  of  it.  And  as  I 
walked  swiftly  along  I  admired  the  beautiful 
forests  of  this  mountainous  country,  the  immense 
fir  trees  that  bordered  the  road  and  recalled  to 
me  those  of  Falberg,  near  Saverne.  The  sight  of 
them  touched  me ;  it  was  like  old  comrades  who 
escort  you  for  several  hours  on  your  journey 
before  saying  a  last  farewell. 

At  last  the  rapid  motion,  the  fresh,  bracing  air 
of  the  mountains,  the  kind  welcome  from  the  good 
people,  the  hope  of  finding  M.  d'Arence,  my  old 
chief  of  the  guard,  and,  above  all,  the  wish  not  to 
let  myself  be  discouraged,  when  my  poor  daughter 
and  the  grandmother  still  had  need  of  me,  all  that 
revived  me,  and  I  said  to  myself  at  each  step  I 
took : 

"  Courage,  Frederick !  The  French  are  not 
yet  all  dead  ;  perhaps  after  a  while  the  happy  days 

1 88 


Brigadier  Frederick 

will  return.  Those  who  despair  are  lost ;  the  poor 
little  birds  that  the  winter  drives  away  from  their 
nests  and  who  are  obliged  to  go  far  away  to  seek 
the  seeds  and  the  insects  upon  which  they  live 
suffer  also ;  but  the  spring  brings  them  back 
again.  That  ought  to  be  an  example  to  you. 
Another  effort,  and  you  will  reach  the  top ;  from 
Provencheres  you  will  only  have  to  go  down 
hill." 

Thus  encouraging  myself  climbing  on  and  per- 
severing, as  weary  as  I  was,  I  reached  Provencheres 
about  the  middle  of  the  day,  and  made  a  short 
halt.  I  drank  a  glass  of  good  wine  at  the  inn  of 
the  Two  Keys,  and  there  I  learned  that  M.  d'Arence 
was  still  at  St.  Die\  the  inspector  of  the  woods 
and  waters,  and  that  he  had  even  commanded  the 
national  guard  during  the  late  events.  This  news 
gave  me  great  pleasure  ;  I  left  there  full  of  hope  ; 
and  that  evening  having  reached  St.  Marguerite, 
at  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  I  had  only  to  follow 
the  highway  till  I  reached  the  city,  where  I  arrived 
so  fatigued  that  I  could  scarcely  stand. 

I  halted  at  the  first  little  tavern  in  the  Rue  du 
Faubourg  St.  Martin,  and  I  was  fortunate  enough 
to  get  a  bed  there,  in  which  I  slept  still  better 
than  in  my  barn  at  Schirmeck.  The  Prussian 
trumpet  awoke  me  early  in  the  morning ;  one  of 

189 


Brigadier  Frederick 

their  regiments  was  occupying  the  city ;  the 
colonel  was  quartered  in  the  episcopal  palace,  the 
other  officers  and  the  soldiers  were  lodged  with 
the  inhabitants  ;  and  the  requisitions  of  hay,  straw, 
meat,  flour,  brandy,  tobacco,  etc.,  were  going  on 
as  briskly  as  at  other  places.  I  took  a  clean  shirt 
out  of  my  bundle,  and  put  on  my  uniform,  remem- 
bering that  M.  d'Arence  had  always  paid  great 
attention  to  the  appearance  of  his  men.  Char- 
acter does  not  change  :  one  is  at  fifty  years  of  age 
exactly  as  one  was  at  twenty.  Then  I  went  down 
into  the  inn  parlour,  and  inquired  for  the  house  of 
the  inspector  of  the  forest.  A  good  old  woman, 
Mother  Ory,  who  kept  the  inn,  told  me  that  he 
lived  at  the  corner  of  the  large  bridge,  to  the  left, 
as  you  went  towards  the  railway  station.  I  went 
there  at  once. 

It  was  a  clear  cold  day ;  the  principal  street, 
which  runs  from  the  railway  station  to  the  cathe- 
dral, was  white  with  snow,  and  the  mountains 
round  the  valley  also.  Some  German  soldiers,  in 
their  earth-coloured  overcoats  and  flat  caps,  were 
taking  away  at  a  distance,  before  the  mayor's 
office,  a  cartload  of  provisions  ;  two  or  three  serv- 
ant maids  were  filling  their  buckets  at  the  pretty 
fountain  of  La  Muerthe.  There  was  nothing  else 
to  see,  for  all  the  people  kept  in  doors. 

190 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Having  reached  the  house  of  the  inspector, 
and  after  having  paused  for  a  moment  to  reflect, 
I  was  going  in,  when  a  tall,  handsome  man  in 
hussar  pantaloons,  a  tight-fitting  braided  overcoat, 
a  green  cap  with  silver  lace,  set  a  little  on  one 
side,  began  to  descend  the  stair-case.  It  was  M. 
d'Arence,  as  erect  as  ever,  with  his  beard  as 
brown  and  his  colour  as  fresh  as  it  was  at  thirty- 
years  of  age.  I  recognised  him  at  once.  Except 
for  his  gray  head,  he  was  not  changed  at  all ;  but 
he  did  not  recognise  me  at  first ;  and  it  was  only 
when  I  reminded  him  of  this  old  guard,  Fred- 
erick, that  he  cried  : 

"What,  is  it  you,  my  poor  Frederick?  De- 
cidedly we  are  no  longer  young." 

No,  I  was  no  longer  young,  and  these  last  few 
months  had  aged  me  still  more,  I  know.  How- 
ever, he  was  very  glad  to  see  me  all  the  same. 

"  Let  us  go  up  stairs,"  he  said  ;  "we  can  talk 
more  at  our  ease." 

So  we  went  up  stairs.  He  took  me  into  a 
large  dark  office,  the  blinds  of  which  were  closed, 
then  into  his  private  room,  where  a  good  fire  was 
sparkling  in  a  large  porcelain  stove ;  and,  having 
told  me  to  take  a  chair,  we  talked  for  a  long  time 
about  our  country.  I  told  him  of  all  our  wretch- 
edness  since   the    arrival    of    the   Germans ;   he 

191 


Brigadier  Frederick 

listened  to  me  with  compressed  lips,  his  elbow  on 
the  edge  of  the  desk,  and  he  finally  said  : 

"  Yes,  it  is  terrible  !  So  many  honest  people 
sacrificed  to  the  selfishness  of  a  few  wretches ! 
We  are  expiating  our  faults  terribly  ;  but  the 
Germans'  turn  will  come.  In  the  meantime,  that 
is  not  the  question  ;  you  must  be  in  straitened 
circumstances  ;  you  are  doubtless  at  the  end  of 
your  funds  ? " 

Of  course  I  told  him  the  truth  ;  I  said  that  I 
had  to  leave  enough  to  live  on  at  home,  and  that 
I  was  trying  to  get  work. 

Then  he  quietly  opened  a  drawer,  saying  that 
I,  like  the  other  brigadiers  of  Alsace,  had  a  right 
to  my  quarter's  pay,  that  he  would  advance  it  to 
me,  and  that  I  could  repay  him  later. 

I  need  not  tell  you  my  satisfaction  at  receiving 
this  money  at  a  time  when  I  needed  it  so  much  ; 
it  touched  me  so  that  my  eyes  filled  with  tears 
and  I  did  not  know  how  to  thank  him. 

He  saw  by  my  face  what  I  thought,  and,  as  I 
tried  to  utter  a  few  words  of  thanks,  he  said  : 

"  All  right,  all  right,  Frederick.  Don't  let  us 
speak  of  that.  You  are  an  honest  man,  a  servant 
of  the  state.     I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  help  you." 

But  what  pleased  me  most  of  all  was  that, 
when  I  was  about  to  go,  he  asked  me  if  several 

192 


Brigadier  Frederick 

of  our  guards  had  not  joined  the  army  of  the 
Vosges. 

Then  I  instantly  thought  of  Jean  ;  I  thought 
that  perhaps  he  had  news  of  him.  In  spite  of 
that,  I  first  cited  big  Kern  and  Donadieu,  and 
then  only  Jean  Merlin,  who  had  left  last,  and  who 
had  doubtless  followed  the  same  road  as  I  had 
done,  by  Schirmeck  and  Rothau. 

"A  big,  solid  fellow,"  said  he,  "with  brown 
mustaches  ;  formerly  in  the  cavalry,  was  he  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  answered,  in  great  excitement ; 
"  that  is  my  son-in-law." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  that  honest  fellow  passed 
this  way ;  I  gave  him  the  means  and  the  neces- 
sary indications  to  reach  Tours.  If  you  are  un- 
easy about  him,  you  may  be  comforted ;  he  is  all 
right ;  he  is  at  his  post." 

We  had  then  reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs; 
at  the  door  M.  d'Arence  shook  hands  with  me; 
then  he  went  away,  crossing  the  bridge,  and  I 
went  towards  the  railway  station,  feeling  happier 
than  I  can  tell  you. 


193 


Brigadier  Frederick 

XXXV 

I  anticipated  Marie-Rose's  joy,  and  I  seemed 
to  hear  the  poor  grandmother  thank  God  when 
she  heard  the  good  news ;  it  seemed  to  me  that 
our  greatest  misfortune  had  passed  away,  that  the 
sun  was  beginning  to  shine  through  the  clouds 
for  us.  I  walked  along  with  my  head  full  of 
happy  thoughts ;  and  when  I  entered  the  parlour 
of  the  Golden  Lion,  Mother  Ory  looked  at  me, 
saying : 

"  Ah  !  my  good  man,  you  have  had  some  good 
luck  befall  you." 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  laughing,  "  I  am  not  the 
same  man  I  was  this  morning  and  yesterday. 
Great  misfortunes  don't  always  stick  to  one  per- 
son all  the  time  ! " 

And  I  told  her  what  had  .  occurred.  She 
looked  at  me  good-humouredly ;  but  when  I 
asked  her  to  give  me  some  paper,  so  that  I  could 
write  all  the  good  news  to  Graufthal,  she  said, 
clasping  her  hands : 

"  What  are  you  thinking  about  ?  To  write 
that  your  son-in-law  is  with  the  army,  that  he  re- 
ceived aid  from  M.  d'Arence  to  speed  him  on  his 
way  !  Why,  M.  d'Arence  would  be  arrested  to- 
morrow, and  you,  too,  and  your  daughter  !     Don't 

194 


Brigadier  Frederick 

you  know  that  the  Germans  open  all  the  letters ; 
that  it  is  their  best  means  of  spying,  and  that  they 
seek  every  opportunity  to  levy  new  taxes  on  the 
city  ?  For  such  a  letter  they  would  require  still 
more  requisitions.  Beware  of  such  fearful  im- 
prudence." 

Then,  seeing  the  justice  of  her  remarks,  I  sud- 
denly lost  all  my  gaiety ;  I  had  scarcely  spirit 
enough  left  to  write  to  Marie- Rose  that  I  had 
arrived  safe  and  well  and  that  I  had  received  some 
help  from  my  former  chief.  I  thought  at  every 
word  that  I  had  said  too  much  ;  I  was  afraid  that 
a  dot,  a  comma,  would  serve  as  a  pretext  to  the 
scoundrels  to  intercept  my  letter  and  to  drive  me 
farther  away. 

Ah !  how  sad  it  was  not  to  be  able  to  send 
even  a  word  of  hope  to  those  one  loves — above 
all,  at  such  a  cruel  moment !  And  how  barbarous 
they  must  have  been  to  charge  against  the  father 
as  a  crime  the  consoling  words  that  he  sent  to  his 
child,  the  good  news  that  a  son  sends  to  his  dying 
mother  !     But  that  is  what  we  have  seen. 

Only  the  letters  announcing  the  death  of  one's 
relatives,  or  some  new  disaster  to  our  country,  ar- 
rived ;  or  else  lies — news  of  victories  invented  by 
the  enemy,  and  that  was  followed  the  next  day  by 
the  announcement  of  a  defeat. 

i95 

J— Vol.  11 


Brigadier  Frederick 

From  that  day,  not  daring  to  write  what  I 
knew,  and  receiving  no  news  from  home,  I  lived 
a  melancholy  life. 

Imagine,  George,  a  man  of  my  age,  alone 
among  strangers,  in  a  little  room  at  an  inn,  look- 
ing for  hours  together  at  the  snow  whirling  against 
the  window-panes,  listening  to  the  noises  outside, 
a  passing  cart,  a  company  of  Prussians  who  were 
going  their  rounds,  the  barking  of  a  dog,  people 
quarrelling ;  without  any  amusement  but  his  medi- 
tations and  his  recollections. 

"What  are  they  about  yonder?  Does  the 
grandmother  still  live?  And,  Marie- Rose — what 
has  become  of  her?  And  Jean,  and  all  the  others?  " 
Always  this  weight  on  my  heart ! 

"  No  letters  have  come ;  so  much  the  better. 
If  anything  had  happened,  Marie-Rose  would  have 
written.  She  does  not  write  ;  so  much  the  worse. 
Perhaps  she,  too,  is  ill ! " 

And  so  it  went  on  from  morning  till  night. 
Sometimes,  when  I  heard  the  hum  of  voices  down 
stairs  in  the  parlour,  I  would  go  down,  to  hear  the 
news  of  the  war.  Hope,  that  great  lie  which  lasts 
all  one's  life,  is  so  rooted  in  our  souls  that  we  cling 
to  it  till  the  end. 

So  I  went  down  stairs,  and  there,  around  the 
tables,  by  the  stove,  were  all  kinds  of  people — 

196 


Brigadier  Frederick 

merchants,  peasants,  wagoners — talking  of  rights 
in  the  north,  the  east ;  of  pillages,  of  military  exe- 
cutions, of  fires,  of  forced  contributions,  of  host- 
ages, and  I  know  not  what  all ! 

Paris  was  still  defending  herself  ;  but  near  the 
Loire  our  young  troops  had  been  forced  to  fall 
back ;  the  Germans  were  too  many  for  them ! 
They  were  arriving  by  all  the  railroads ;  and  then 
our  arms  and  ammunition  were  giving  out.  This 
young  army,  assembled  in  haste,  without  a  head, 
without  discipline,  without  arms,  without  pro- 
visions, was  forced  to  keep  up  against  this  terrible 
war,  and  the  fearful  weight  of  numbers  could  not 
fail  to  crush  it  after  a  while. 

That  is  what  the  Swiss  and  Belgian  news- 
papers said,  that  the  travellers  sometimes  left  be- 
hind them. 

The  bombardment  of  Belfort  continued.  The 
weather  was  fearful ;  snow  and  hard  frosts  fol- 
lowed each  other  in  quick  succession.  One  could 
almost  say  that  the  Almighty  was  against  us. 

For  my  part,  George,  I  must  confess  that, 
after  so  many  misfortunes,  I  was  discouraged ; 
the  least  rumour  made  me  uneasy  ;  I  was  al- 
ways afraid  of  hearing  of  fresh  disasters ;  and 
sometimes,  too,  my  indignation  made  me  wish 
to  go,  in    spite   of   my  old    legs,   and  get   my- 

197 


Brigadier  Frederick 

self  killed,  no  matter  where,  so  as  to  be  done 
with  it. 

Ennui  and  discouragement  had  got  the  upper 
hand  of  me,  when  I  received  a  letter  from  my 
daughter. 

The  grandmother  was  dead  !  Marie-Rose  was 
coming  to  join  me  at  St.  Die\  She  told  me  to 
hire  a  small  apartment,  as  she  was  going  to  bring 
a  little  furniture,  some  linen,  and  some  bedding, 
and  that  she  was  going  to  sell  the  rest  at  Graufthal 
before  her  departure. 

She  said  also  that  Starck  had  offered  to  bring 
her  on  his  cart,  through  Sarrebourg,  Lorquin, 
Raon  l'foape  ;  that  the  journey  would  probably 
last  fully  three  days,  but  that  we  would  meet 
again  at  the  end  of  the  week. 

So  the  poor  grandmother  had  ceased  to  suffer ; 
she  lay  beside  her  daughter,  Catherine,  and  Father 
Burat,  whom  I  had  loved  so  much  !  I  said  to 
myself  that  they  were  all  luckier  than  I  ;  that  they 
slept  among  their  ancestors,  in  the  shadow  of  our 
mountains. 

The  thought  of  seeing  my  daughter  once  more 
did  me  good.  I  said  to  myself  that  we  would  be 
no  longer  alone  ;  that  we  could  live  without  much 
expense  till  the  end  of  the  invasion  ;  and  then, 
when  Jean  returned,  when  he  had  found  a  situa- 

198 


Brigadier  Frederick 

tion,  we  would  build  up  our  nest  again  in  some 
forest ;  that  I  would  have  my  pension,  and  that, 
in  spite  of  all  our  misfortunes,  I  would  end  my 
days  in  peace  and  quietness,  among  my  grand- 
children. 

That  appeared  very  natural  to  me.  I  repeated 
to  myself  that  God  is  good,  and  that  all  would 
soon  be  in  order  again. 

Marie-Rose  arrived  on  the  fifth  of  January, 
1871. 

XXXVI 

I  had  rented,  for  twelve  francs  a  month,  two 
small  rooms  and  a  kitchen  on  the  second  floor  of 
the  house  next  door  to  the  Golden  Lion ;  it  be- 
longed to  M.  Michel,  a  gardener,  a  very  good 
man,  who  afterward  rendered  us  great  services. 

It  was  very  cold  that  day.  Marie-Rose  had 
written  that  she  was  coming,  but  without  saying 
whether  in  the  morning  or  the  evening ;  so  I  was 
obliged  to  wait. 

About  noon  Starck's  cart  appeared  at  the  end 
of  the  street,  covered  with  furniture  and  bedding. 

Marie-Rose  was  on  the  vehicle,  wrapped  in  a 
large  cape  of  her  mother's ;  the  tall  coalman  was 
walking  in  front,  holding  his  horses  by  the  bridle. 

199 


Brigadier  Frederick 

I  went  down  stairs  and  ran  to  meet  them.  I 
embraced  Starck,  who  had  stopped,  then  my 
daughter,  saying  to  her,  in  a  whisper : 

"  I  have  heard  news  of  Jean.  He  passed 
through  St.  Die*.  M.  d'Arence  gave  him  the 
means  to  cross  the  Prussian  lines  and  join  the 
Army  of  the  Loire." 

She  did  not  answer,  but  as  I  spoke,  I  felt  her 
bosom  heave  and  her  arms  tighten  round  me  with 
extraordinary  strength. 

They  went  on  again  ;  a  hundred  yards  farther 
we  were  before  our  lodgings.  Starck  took  his 
horses  to  the  stable  of  the  Golden  Lion.  Marie- 
Rose  went  into  the  large  parlour  of  the  inn,  and 
good  Mother  Ory  made  her  take  at  once  a  cup  of 
broth,  to  warm  her,  for  she  was  very  cold. 

That  same  day  Starck  and  I  took  up  the  furni- 
ture. At  four  o'clock  all  was  ready.  We  made  a 
fire  in  the  stove.  Marie-Rose  was  so  worn  out 
that  we  had  almost  to  carry  her  up  stairs. 

I  had  noticed  when  I  first  saw  her  her  extreme 
pallor  and  sparkling  eyes ;  it  astonished  me  ;  but 
I  attributed  the  change  to  the  long  watches,  the 
grief,  the  anxiety,  and,  above  all,  to  the  fatigue  of 
a  three  days'  journey  in  an  open  wagon,  and  in 
such  terribly  cold  weather.  Was  it  not  natural 
after  such  suffering  ?     I  knew  her  to  be  strong ; 

200 


Brigadier  Frederick 

since  her  childhood  she  had  never  been  ill ;  I  said 
to  myself  that  she  would  get  over  that  in  time, 
and  that  with  a  little  care  and  perfect  rest  she 
would  soon  regain  her  rosy  cheeks. 

Once  up  stairs,  in  front  of  the  sparkling  little 
fire,  seeing  the  neat  room,  the  old  wardrobe  at  the 
back,  the  old  pictures  from  the  forest  house  hung 
on  the  wall,  and  our  old  clock  ticking  away  in  the 
right-hand  corner  behind  the  door,  Marie- Rose 
seemed  satisfied,  and  said  to  me : 

**  We  will  be  very  comfortable  here,  father  ;  we 
will  keep  quiet,  and  the  Germans  will  not  drive  us 
farther  away.  If  only  Jean  comes  back  soon,  we 
will  live  in  peace." 

Her  voice  was  hoarse.  She  also  wanted  to  see 
the  kitchen,  which  opened  on  the  court ;  the  day- 
light coming  from  over  the  roofs  made  this  place 
rather  dark  ;  but  she  thought  everything  was  very 
nice. 

As  we  had  not  any  provisions  yet,  I  sent  to  the 
inn  for  our  dinner  and  two  bottles  of  wine. 

Starck  would  take  nothing  but  the  expenses 
on  the  road.  He  said  that  at  this  season  there 
was  nothing  to  do  in  the  forest,  and  that  he  might 
as  well  have  come  as  to  have  left  his  horses  in  the 
stable  ;  but  he  could  not  refuse  a  good  dinner,  and 
then,  too,  he  liked  a  good  glass  of  wine. 

201 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Then,  at  table,  Marie-Rose  told  me  all  the  de- 
tails of  the  grandmother's  death  ;  how  she  had  ex- 
pired, after  having  cried  for  three  days  and  three 
nights,  murmuring  in  her  dreams  :  "  Burat !  Fred- 
erick !  The  Germans  !  Frederick,  do  not  desert 
me  !  Take  me  with  you  ! "  At  last  the  good  God 
took  her  to  Himself,  and  half  Graufthal  followed 
her  bier  through  the  snow  to  D6senheim,  to  bury 
her  with  her  own  people. 

In  telling  her  sad  tale,  Marie-Rose  could  not 
restrain  her  tears,  and  from  time  to  time  she 
stopped  to  cough  ;  so  I  told  her  that  I  had  heard 
enough,  and  that  I  did  not  care  to  know  any  more. 

And  when  dinner  was  over,  I  thanked  Starck 
for  the  services  he  had  rendered  us.  I  told  him 
that  in  misfortune  we  learn  to  know  our  true 
friends,  and  other  just  things,  which  pleased  him, 
because  he  deserved  them.  About  six  o'clock  he 
went  away  again,  in  spite  of  all  that  I  could  say 
to  persuade  him  to  remain.  I  went  with  him  to 
the  end  of  the  street,  asking  him  to  thank  Father 
Ykel  and  his  daughter  for  all  that  they  had  done 
for  us,  and  if  he  went  to  Felsberg  to  tell  Mother 
Margredel  how  we  were  getting  along,  and,  above 
all,  to  ask  her  to  send  us  all  news  of  Jean  that  she 
might  receive.     He  promised,  and  we  separated. 

I  went  back,  feeling  very  thoughtful ;  glad  to 
202 


Brigadier  Frederick 

see  my  child  once  more,  but  uneasy  about  the  ter- 
rible cold  that  kept  her  from  speaking.  However, 
I  had  no  serious  fears,  as  I  told  you,  George. 
When  one  has  always  seen  people  in  good  health 
one  knows  very  well  that  such  little  ailments  do 
not  signify  anything. 

There  was  still  seven  or  eight  weeks  of  winter 
to  pass  through.  In  the  month  of  March  the  sun 
is  already  warm,  the  spring  is  coming ;  in  April, 
sheltered  as  we  were  by  the  great  hill  of  Saint 
Martin,  we  would  soon  see  the  gardens  and  the 
fields  grow  green  again  in  the  shelter  of  the  forest. 
We  had  also  two  large  boxes  of  climbing  plants 
to  place  on  our  window-sills,  which  I  pictured  to 
myself  beforehand  extending  over  our  window- 
panes,  and  that  would  remind  us  a  little  of  the 
forest  house. 

All  these  things  seemed  good  to  me,  and,  in 
my  emotion  at  seeing  Marie-Rose  again,  I  looked 
on  the  bright  side  of  the  future ;  I  wanted  to  live 
as  much  to  ourselves  as  we  could  while  waiting  for 
Jean's  return,  and  to  worry  ourselves  about  the 
war  as  little  as  possible,  although  that  is  very  hard 
to  do  when  the  fate  of  one's  fatherland  is  in 
question ;  yes,  very  hard.  I  promised  myself  to 
tell  my  daughter  nothing  but  pleasant  things,  such 
as  tidings  of  our  victories,  if  we  were  so  fortunate 

203 


Brigadier  Frederick 

as  to  gain  any,  and,  above  all,  to  hide  from  her  my 
uneasiness  about  Jean,  whose  long  silence  often 
gave  me  gloomy  thoughts. 

In  the  midst  of  these  meditations  I  returned 
home.  Night  had  come.  Marie-Rose  was  wait- 
ing for  me  beside  the  lamp ;  she  threw  herself  into 
my  arms,  murmuring : 

"Ah !  father,  what  happiness  it  is  for  us  to  be 
together  once  more ! " 

"  Yes,  yes,  my  child,"  I  answered,  "  and  others 
who  are  now  far  away  will  return  also.  We  must 
have  a  little  patience  still.  We  have  suffered  too 
much  and  too  unjustly  for  that  to  last  forever. 
You  are  not  very  well  now;  the  journey  has 
fatigued  you ;  but  it  will  be  nothing.  Go  sleep, 
dear  child,  and  rest  yourself." 

She  went  to  her  room,  and  I  retired  to  bed, 
thanking  God  for  having  given  me  back  my 
daughter. 

XXXVII 

Thus,  George,  after  the  loss  of  my  situation 
and  my  property,  earned  by  thirty  years  of  labour, 
economy  and  faithful  services;  after  the  loss  of 
our  dear  country,  of  our  old  parents  and  our 
friends,  I  had  still  one  consolation :  my  daughter 

204 


Brigadier  Frederick 

still  remained  to  me,  my  good,  courageous  child, 
who  smiled  at  me  in  spite  of  her  anxiety,  her  grief, 
and  her  sufferings  when  she  saw  me  too  much  cast 
down. 

That  is  what  overwhelms  me  when  I  think  of 
it;  I  always  reproach  myself  for  having  allowed 
her  to  see  my  grief,  and  for  not  having  been  able 
to  keep  down  my  anger  against  those  who  had  re- 
duced us  to  such  a  condition.  It  is  easy  to  put  a 
good  face  on  the  matter  when  you  have  everything 
you  want ;  in  need  and  in  a  strange  country  it  is  a 
different  thing. 

We  lived  as  economically  as  possible.  Marie- 
Rose  looked  after  our  little  household,  and  I  often 
sat  for  hours  before  the  window,  thinking  of  all 
that  had  occurred  during  the  last  few  months,  of 
the  abominable  order  that  had  driven  me  from  my 
country;  I  suddenly  grew  indignant,  and  raised 
my  arms  to  Heaven,  uttering  a  wild  cry. 

Marie-Rose  was  more  calm ;  our  humiliation, 
our  misery,  and  the  national  disasters  hurt  her  as 
much  and  perhaps  more  than  me,  but  she  hid  it 
from  me.  Only  what  she  could  not  hide  from  me 
was  that  wretched  cold,  which  gave  me  much 
anxiety.  Far  from  improving  as  I  had  hoped,  it 
grew  worse — it  seemed  to  me  to  get  worse  every 
day.     At  night,  above  all,  when  I  heard  through 

205 


Brigadier  Frederick 

the  deep  silence  that  dry,  hacking  cough,  that 
seemed  to  tear  her  chest  asunder,  I  sat  up  in  bed 
and  listened,  filled  with  terror. 

Sometimes,  however,  this  horrible  cold  seemed 
to  get  better,  Marie-Rose  would  sleep  soundly, 
and  then  I  regained  my  courage ;  and  thinking  of 
the  innumerable  misfortunes  that  were  extended 
over  France,  the  great  famine  at  Paris,  the  battle- 
fields covered  with  corpses,  the  ambulances  crowd- 
ed with  wounded,  the  conflagrations,  the  requisi- 
tions, the  pillages,  I  said  to  myself  that  we  had 
still  a  little  fire  to  warm  us,  a  little  bread  to  nour- 
ish us.  And  then,  so  many  strange  things  hap- 
pened during  the  wars !  Had  we  not  formerly 
conquered  all  Europe,  which  did  not  prevent  us 
from  being  vanquished  in  our  turn  ?  Might  not 
the  Germans  have  the  same  fate  ?  All  gamblers 
end  by  losing !  Those  ideas  and  many  others  I 
turned  over  in  my  mind  ;  and  Marie-Rose  said,  too: 

"  All  is  not  over,  father ;  all  is  not  over !  I  had 
a  dream  last  night.  I  saw  Jean  in  a  brigadier-for- 
ester's costume  ;  we  will  soon  have  some  good 
news ! " 

Alas  !  good  news.  Poor  child  !  Yes,  yes,  you 
can  dream  happy  dreams ;  you  may  see  Jean  wear- 
ing a  brigadier's  stripes,  and  smiling  at  you  and 
giving  you  his  arm  to  lead  you,  with  a  white  wreath 

206 


Brigadier  Frederick 

on  your  head,  to  the  little  chapel  at  Graufthal, 
where  the  priest  waits  to  marry  you.  All  would 
have  happened  thus,  but  there  should  be  fewer 
rascals  on  earth,  to  turn  aside  the  just  things  es- 
tablished by  the  Almighty.  Whenever  I  think  of 
that  time,  George,  I  seem  to  feel  a  hand  tearing 
out  my  heart.  I  would  like  to  stop,  but  as  I 
promised  you,  I  will  go  on  to  the  end. 

One  day,  when  the  fire  was  sparkling  in  the 
little  stove,  when  Marie-Rose,  very  thin  and 
thoughtful,  was  spinning,  and  when  the  old  recol- 
lections of  the  forest  house,  with  the  beautiful 
spring,  the  calm,  melancholy  autumn,  the  songs  of 
the  blackbirds  and  thrushes,  the  murmur  of  the 
little  river  through  the  reeds,  the  voice  of  the  old 
grandmother,  that  of  poor  Calas,  the  joyous  bark- 
ing of  Ragot,  and  the  lowing  of  our  two  hand- 
some cows  under  the  old  willows,  came  stealing 
back  to  my  memory ;  while  I  was  forgetting  my- 
self in  these  things,  and  while  the  monotonous 
hum  of  the  spinning  wheel  and  the  ticking  of  our 
old  clock  were  filling  our  little  room,  all  at  once 
cries  and  songs  broke  out  in  the  distance. 

Marie-Rose  listened  with  amazement ;  and  I, 
abruptly  torn  from  my  pleasant  dreams,  started 
like  a  man  who  has  been  roused  from  sleep.  The 
Germans  were  rejoicing  so,  some  new  calamity 

207 


Brigadier  Frederick 

had  befallen  us.  That  was  my  first  idea,  and  I 
was  not  mistaken. 

Soon  bands  of  soldiers  crossed  the  street,  arm 
in  arm,  crying  with  all  their  might : 

"  Paris  has  fallen !  Long  live  the  German 
fatherland!" 

I  looked  at  Marie-Rose ;  she  was  as  pale  as 
death,  and  was  looking  at  me  also  with  her  great 
brilliant  eyes.  We  turned  our  eyes  away  from 
each  other,  so  as  not  to  betray  the  terrible  emotion 
that  we  felt.  She  went  out  into  the  kitchen, 
where  I  heard  her  crying. 

Until  dark  we  heard  nothing  but  new  bands, 
singing  and  shouting  as  they  passed ;  I,  with 
bowed  head,  heard  from  time  to  time  my 
daughter  coughing  behind  the  partition  of  the 
kitchen,  and  I  gave  myself  up  to  despair.  About 
seven  o'clock  Marie-Rose  came  in  with  the  lamp. 
She  wanted  to  set  the  table. 

"  It  is  no  use,"  I  said  ;  "  do  not  put  down  my 
plate.     I  am  not  hungry." 

"  Neither  am  I,"  said  she. 

"  Well,  let  us  go  to  bed ;  let  us  try  to  forget 
our  misery  ;  let  us  endeavour  to  sleep  ! " 

I  rose ;  we  kissed  each  other,  weeping.  That 
night,  George,  was  horrible.  In  spite  of  her 
efforts  to  stifle  the  cough  I  heard  Marie-Rose 

208 


Brigadier  Frederick 

coughing  without  intermission  until  morning,  so 
that  I  could  not  close  my  eyes.  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  go  for  a  doctor ;  but  I  did  not  want  to 
frighten  my  daughter,  and  thinking  of  a  means  to 
speak  of  that  to  her,  towards  dawn  I  fell  asleep. 

It  was  eight  o'clock  when  I  woke  up,  and 
after  dressing  myself  I  called  Marie-Rose.  She 
did  not  answer.  Then  I  went  into  her  room,  and 
I  saw  spots  of  blood  on  her  pillow ;  her  handker- 
chief, too,  which  she  had  left  on  the  night-table, 
was  all  red. 

It  made  me  shudder !  I  returned  and  sat 
down  in  my  corner,  thinking  of  what  I  had  just 
seen. 


XXXVIII 


It  was  market  day.  Marie- Rose  had  gone  to 
lay  in  our  small  stock  of  provisions ;  she  returned 
about  nine  o'clock,  so  much  out  of  breath  that  she 
could  scarcely  hold  her  basket.  When  I  saw  her 
come  in  I  recollected  the  pale  faces  of  those 
young  girls,  of  whom  the  poor  people  of  our  val- 
ley used  to  say  that  God  was  calling  them,  and 
who  fell  asleep  quietly  at  the  first  snow.  This 
idea  struck  me,  and  I  was  frightened ;  but  then, 
steadying  my  voice,  I  said  quite  calmly  : 

209 


Brigadier  Frederick 

11  See  here,  Marie- Rose,  all  last  night  I  heard 
you  coughing  ;  it  makes  me  uneasy." 

"  Oh  !  it  is  nothing,  father,"  she  answered, 
colouring  slightly  ;  "  it  is  nothing,  the  fine  weather 
is  coming  and  this  cold  will  pass  off." 

"  Anyhow,"  I  replied,  "  I  will  not  be  easy,  as 
long  as  a  doctor  has  not  told  me  what  it  is.  I 
must  go  at  once  and  get  a  doctor." 

She  looked  at  me,  with  her  hands  crossed  over 
the  basket,  on  the  edge  of  the  table ;  and,  guess- 
ing perhaps  by  my  anxiety  that  I  had  discovered 
the  spots  of  blood,  she  murmured  : 

"  Very  well,  father,  to  ease  your  mind." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "it  is  better  to  do  things  before- 
hand ;  what  is  nothing  in  the  beginning  may  be- 
come very  dangerous  if  neglected." 

And  I  went  out.  Down  stairs  M.  Michel 
gave  me  the  address  of  Dr.  Carriere,  who  lived  in 
the  Rue  de  la  Mairie.  I  went  to  see  him.  He 
was  a  man  of  about  sixty,  lean,  with  black  spark- 
ling eyes  and  a  grizzled  head,  who  listened  to  me 
very  attentively  and  asked  me  if  I  was  not  the 
brigadier  forester  that  his  friend  M.  d'Arence  had 
spoken  to  him  about.  I  answered  that  I  was  he, 
and  he  accompanied  me  at  once. 

Twenty  minutes  afterward  we  reached  our 
room.     When  Marie-Rose  came  the  doctor  ques- 

210 


Brigadier  Frederick 

tioned  her  for  a  long  time  about  the  beginning  of 
this  cold,  about  her  present  symptoms,  if  she  had 
not  fever  at  night  with  shivering  fits  and  attacks 
of  suffocation. 

By  his  manner  of  questioning  her  she  was,  so 
to  speak,  forced  to  answer  him,  and  the  old  doc- 
tor soon  knew  that  she  had  been  spitting  blood 
for  over  a  month ;  she  confessed  it,  turning  very 
pale  and  looking  at  me  as  if  to  ask  pardon  for 
having  hidden  this  misfortune  from  me.  Ah  !  I 
forgave  her  heartily,  but  I  was  in  despair.  After 
that  Dr.  Carriere  wished  to  examine  her ;  he  lis- 
tened to  her  breathing  and  finally  said  that  it  was 
all  right,  that  he  would  give  her  a  prescription. 

But  in  the  next  room,  when  we  were  alone,  he 
asked  me  if  any  of  our  family  had  been  consump- 
tive ;  and  when  I  assured  him  that  never,  neither 
in  my  wife's  family  nor  my  own,  had  we  ever  had 
the  disease,  he  said  : 

"  I  believe  you ;  your  daughter  is  very  beauti- 
fully formed ;  she  is  a  strong  and  handsome  crea- 
ture ;  but  then  she  must  have  had  an  accident ;  a 
fall,  or  something  like  that  must  have  put  her  in 
this  condition.  She  is  probably  hiding  it  from 
us  ;  I  must  know  it." 

So  I  called  Marie-Rose,  and  the  doctor  asked 
her  if  some  weeks  before  she  did  not  remember 

211 


Brigadier  Frederick 

having  fallen,  or  else  run  against  something  vio- 
lently, telling  her  that  he  was  going  to  write  his 
prescription  according  to  what  she  would  reply, 
and  that  her  life  probably  depended  upon  it. 

Then  Marie-Rose  confessed  that  the  day  the 
Germans  came  to  take  away  our  cows  she  had 
tried  to  hold  them  back  by  the  rope,  and  that 
one  of  the  Prussians  had  struck  her  between  the 
shoulders  with  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  which  had 
thrown  her  forward  on  her  hands,  and  that  her 
mouth  had  suddenly  filled  with  blood ;  but  that 
the  fear  of  my  anger  at  hearing  of  such  an  out- 
rage had  kept  her  from  saying  anything  to  me 
about  it. 

All  was  then  clear  to  me.  I  could  not  restrain 
my  tears,  looking  at  my  poor  child,  the  victim  of 
so  great  a  misfortune.  She  withdrew.  The  doc- 
tor wrote  his  prescription.  As  we  were  descend- 
ing the  stairs  he  said  : 

"  It  is  very  serious.  You  have  only  one 
daughter  ?  " 

"  She  is  my  only  one,"  I  answered. 

He  was  sad  and  thoughtful. 

"We  will  do  our  best,"  he  said;  "youth  has 
many  resources !  But  do  not  let  her  be  excited 
in  any  way." 

As  he  walked  down  the  street  he  repeated  to 
212 


Brigadier  Frederick 

me  the  advice  that  M.  Simperlin  had  given  me 
about  the  grandmother ;  I  made  no  answer.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  the  earth  was  opening  under 
my  feet  and  was  crying  to  me : 

"  The  dead — the  dead  !     Give  me  my  dead  ! " 

How  glad  I  should  have  been  to  be  the  first  to 
go  to  rest,  to  close  my  eyes  and  to  answer : 

"Well,  here  I  am.  Take  me  and  leave  the 
young !  Let  them  breathe  a  few  days  longer. 
They  do  not  know  that  life  is  a  terrible  misfor- 
tune ;  they  will  soon  learn  it,  and  will  go  with  less 
regret.     You  will  have  them  all  the  same  ! " 

And,  continuing  to  muse  in  this  way,  I  entered 
an  apothecary's  shop  near  the  large  bridge  and 
had  the  prescription  made  up.  I  returned  to  the 
house.  Marie-Rose  took  two  spoonfuls  of  the 
medicine  morning  and  evening,  as  it  had  been 
directed.  It  did  her  good,  I  saw  it  from  the  first 
few  days ;  her  voice  was  clearer,  her  hands  less 
burning ;  she  smiled  at  me,  as  if  to  say  : 

"  You  see,  father,  it  was  only  a  cold.  Don't 
worry  about  it  any  more." 

An  infinite  sweetness  shone  in  her  eyes ;  she 
was  glad  to  get  well.  The  hope  of  seeing  Jean 
once  more  added  to  her  happiness.  Naturally,  I 
encouraged  her  in  her  joyous  thoughts.     I  said  : 

"We  will  receive  news  one  of  these  days. 
213 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Neighbour  such  a  one  also  expects  to  hear  from 
her  son  ;  it  cannot  be  long  now.  The  mails  were 
stopped  during  the  war,  the  letters  are  lying  at 
the  offices.  The  Germans  wanted  to  discourage 
us.  Now  that  the  armistice  is  signed  we  will  get 
our  letters." 

The  satisfaction  of  learning  such  good  news 
brightened  her  countenance. 

I  did  not  let  her  go  to  the  city ;  I  took  the 
basket  myself  and  went  to  get  our  provisions; 
the  market  women  knew  me. 

"  It  is  the  old  brigadier,"  they  would  say ; 
"whose  pretty  daughter  is  sick.  They  are  alone. 
It  is  he  who  comes  now." 

None  of  them  ever  sold  me  their  vegetables  at 
too  high  a  price. 

XXXIX 

I  thought  no  longer  of  the  affairs  of  the 
country.  I  only  wanted  to  save  my  daughter ; 
the  rumours  of  elections,  of  the  National  Assem- 
bly at  Bordeaux,  no  longer  interested  me ;  my 
only  thought  was  : 

"  If  Marie-Rose  only  lives  ! " 

So  passed  the  end  of  January,  then  came  the 
treaty  of  peace :  we  were  deserted  !     And  from 

214 


Brigadier  Frederick 

day  to  day  the  neighbours  received  news  from 
their  sons,  from  their  brothers,  from  their  friends, 
some  prisoners  in  Germany,  others  in  canton- 
ments in  the  interior  ;  but  for  us  not  a  word ! 

I  went  to  the  post-office  every  morning  to  see 
if  anything  had  come  for  us.  One  day  the  post- 
master said  to  me  : 

"  Ah !  it  is  you.  The  postman  has  just  gone. 
He  has  a  letter  for  you." 

Then  I  hastened  hopefully  home.  As  I  reached 
the  door  the  postman  left  the  alley  and  called  to 
me,  laughing : 

"  Hurry  up,  Father  Frederick,  you  have  got 
what  you  wanted  this  time :  a  letter  that  comes 
from  the  Army  of  the  Loire  ! " 

I  went  up  stairs  four  steps  at  a  time,  with  beat- 
ing heart.  What  were  we  about  to  hear  ?  What 
had  happened  during  so  many  weeks  ?  Was  Jean 
on  the  road  to  come  and  see  us  ?  Would  he  arrive 
the  next  day — in  two,  three,  or  four  days  ? 

Agitated  by  these  thoughts,  when  I  got  up 
stairs  my  hand  sought  for  the  latch  without  find- 
ing it.  At  last  I  pushed  open  the  door ;  my  little 
room  was  empty.     I  called  : 

"  Marie-Rose  !     Marie-Rose  ! " 

No  answer.  I  went  into  the  other  room ;  and 
my  child,  my  poor  child  was  lying  there  on  the 

215 


Brigadier  Frederick 

floor,  near  her  bed,  white  as  wax,  her  great  eyes 
half  open,  the  letter  clutched  in  her  hand,  a  little 
blood  on  her  lips.  I  thought  her  dead,  and  with 
a  terrible  cry  I  caught  her  up  and  laid  her  on  the 
bed.  Then,  half  wild,  calling,  crying,  I  took  the 
letter  and  read  it  with  one  glance. 

See,  here  it  is !  Read  it,  George,  read  it  aloud ; 
I  know  it  by  heart,  but  it  does  not  matter,  I  like 
to  turn  the  knife  in  the  wound ;  when  it  bleeds  it 
hurts  less. 

"My  Dear  Marie-Rose  :  Adieu  !  I  shall  never 
see  you  more.  A  bursting  shell  has  shattered  my 
right  leg ;  the  surgeons  have  had  to  amputate  it. 
I  will  not  survive  the  operation  long.  I  had  lain 
too  long  on  the  ground.  I  had  lost  too  much 
blood.  It  is  all  over.  I  must  die  !  Oh  !  Marie- 
Rose,  dear  Marie-Rose,  how  I  would  like  to  see 
you  again  for  one  instant,  one  minute ;  how  much 
good  it  would  do  me  !  All  the  time  I  lay  wounded 
in  the  snow  I  thought  only  of  you.  Do  not  for- 
get me  either ;  think  sometimes  of  Jean  Merlin. 
Poor  Mother  Margredel,  poor  Father  Frederick, 
poor  Uncle  Daniel !  You  will  tell  them.  Ah  !  how 
happy  we  would  have  been  without  this  war ! " 

The  letter  stopped  here.  Underneath,  as  you 
see,  another  hand  had  written :     "  Jean  Merlin, 

216 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Alsatian.     Detachment  of  the  21st  Corps.     Silly- 
le-Guillaume,  26th  of  January,  1871." 

I  took  this  all  in  with  one  look,  and  then  I 
continued  to  call,  to  cry,  and  at  last  I  fell  into  a 
chair,  utterly  exhausted,  saying  to  myself  that  all 
was  lost,  my  daughter,  my  son-in-law,  my  country 
— all,  and  that  it  would  be  better  for  me  to  die,  too. 

My  cries  had  been  heard ;  some  people  came 
up  stairs,  Father  and  Mother  Michel,  I  think. 
Yes,  it  was  they  who  sent  for  the  doctor.  I  was 
like  one  distracted,  without  a  sign  of  reason  ;  my 
ears  were  singing ;  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  was 
asleep  and  was  having  a  horrible  dream. 

Long  after  the  voice  of  Dr.  Carriere  roused 
me  from  my  stupor  ;  he  said  : 

"  Take  him  away  !  Do  not  let  him  see  this  ! 
Take  him  away  ! " 

Some  people  took  me  by  the  arms;  then  I 
grew  indignant,  and  I  cried : 

"  No,  sir ;  I  will  not  be  taken  away  !  I  want 
to  stay,  she  is  my  daughter  !  Have  you  children, 
that  you  tell  them  to  take  me  away  ?  I  want  to 
save  her  !     I  want  to  defend  her  ! " 

"Let  him  alone,"  said  the  doctor,  sadly;  "let 
the  poor  fellow  alone.  But  you  must  be  silent," 
he  said  to  me  ;  "  your  cries  may  kill  her." 

I  fell  back  in  my  seat,  murmuring : 
217 


Brigadier  Frederick 

"  I  will  not  cry  out  any  more,  sir ;  I  will  say 
nothing.  Only  let  me  stay  by  her ;  I  will  be  very 
quiet." 

A  few  minutes  after,  Dr.  Carriere  left  the 
room,  making  a  sign  to  the  others  to  withdraw. 

A  great  many  people  followed  him,  a  small 
number  remained.  I  saw  them  moving  to  and 
fro,  arranging  the  bed  and  raising  the  pillows, 
whispering  among  themselves.  The  silence  was 
profound.  Time  passed.  A  priest  appeared  with 
his  assistants  ;  they  began  to  pray  in  Latin  ;  It  was 
the  last  offices  of  the  church.  The  good  women, 
kneeling,  uttered  the  responses. 

All  disappeared.  It  was  then  about  five  o'clock 
in  the  evening.  The  lamp  was  lighted.  I  rose 
softly  and  approached  the  bed. 

My  daughter,  looking  as  beautiful  as  an  angel, 
her  eyes  half  open,  still  breathed;  I  called  her  in 
a  whisper :  "  Marie- Rose  !  Marie-Rose  ! "  crying 
bitterly  as  I  spoke. 

It  seemed  every  minute  as  if  she  was  about  to 
look  at  me  and  answer,  "  Father ! " 

But  it  was  only  the  light  that  flickered  on  her 
face.  She  no  longer  stirred.  And  from  minute 
to  minute,  from  hour  to  hour,  I  listened  to  her 
breathing,  which  was  growing  gradually  shorter 
and  shorter.     I  looked  at  her  cheeks  and  her  fore- 

218 


Brigadier  Frederick 

head,  gradually  growing  paler.  At  last,  uttering  a 
sigh,  she  lifted  her  head,  which  was  slightly  droop- 
ing, and  her  blue  eyes  opened  slowly. 

A  good  woman,  who  was  watching  with  me, 
took  a  little  mirror  from  the  table  and  held  it  to 
her  lips;  no  cloud  dimmed  the  surface  of  the 
glass ;  Marie- Rose  was  dead. 

I  said  nothing,  I  uttered  no  lamentations,  and 
I  followed  like  a  child  those  who  led  me  into  the 
next  room.  I  sat  down  in  the  shadow,  my  hands 
on  my  knees ;  my  courage  was  broken. 

And  now  it  is  ended.  I  have  told  you  all, 
George. 

Need  I  tell  you  of  the  funeral,  the  coffin,  the 
cemetery?  and  then  of  my  return  to  the  little 
room  where  Marie- Rose  and  I  had  lived  together ; 
of  my  despair  at  finding  myself  alone,  without 
relations,  without  a  country,  without  hope,  and  to 
say  to  myself,  "  You  will  live  thus  always — always 
until  the  worms  eat  you  ! " 

No,  I  cannot  tell  you  about  that ;  it  is  too  hor- 
rible.    I  have  told  you  enough. 

You  need  only  know  that  I  was  like  a  mad- 
man, that  I  had  evil  ideas  which  haunted  me, 
thoughts  of  vengeance. 

It  was  not  I,  George,  who  cherished  those 
terrible  thoughts ;  it  was  the  poor  creature  aban- 

219 

K— Vol.  11 


Brigadier  Frederick 

doned  by  heaven  and  earth,  whose  heart  had  been 
torn  out,  bit  by  bit,  and  who  knew  no  longer 
where  to  lay  his  head. 

I  wandered  through  the  streets ;  the  good  peo- 
ple pitied  me ;  Mother  Ory  gave  me  all  my  meals. 
I  learned  that  later.  Then  I  did  not  think  of  any- 
thing ;  my  evil  thoughts  did  not  leave  irie ;  I  talked 
of  them  alone,  sitting  behind  the  stove  of  the 
inn,  my  chin  on  my  hands,  my  elbows  on  my 
knees,  and  my  eyes  fixed  on  the  floor. 

God  only  knows  what  hatred  I  meditated. 
Mother  Ory  understood  all,  and  the  excellent 
woman,  who  wished  me  well,  told  M.  d'Arence 
about  me. 

One  morning,  when  I  was  alone  in  the  inn 
parlour,  he  came  to  talk  things  over  with  me,  re- 
minding me  that  he  had  always  shown  himself 
very  considerate  towards  me,  that  he  had  always 
recommended  me  as  an  honest  man,  a  good  ser- 
vant, full  of  zeal  and  probity,  in  whom  one  could 
repose  perfect  trust,  and  that  he  hoped  it  would 
be  that  way  till  the  end ;  that  he  was  sure  of  it ; 
that  a  brave,  just  man,  even  in  the  midst  of  the 
greatest  misfortunes,  would  show  himself  the  same 
that  he  was  in  prosperity ;  that  duty  and  honour 
marched  before  him  ;  that  his  greatest  consolation 
and  his  best  was  to  be  able  to  say  to  himself:  "  I 

220 


Brigadier  Frederick 

am  cast  down,  it  is  true ;  but  my  courage  remains 
to  me ;  my  good  conscience  supports  me ;  my 
enemies  themselves  are  forced  to  confess  that  fate 
has  been  unjust  to  me." 

He  talked  to  me  in  this  manner  for  a  long 
time,  pacing  up  and  down  the  room  ;  and  I,  who 
had  not  shed  a  tear  at  my  daughter's  funeral,  I 
burst  out  crying. 

Then  he  told  me  that  the  time  had  come  to 
depart ;  that  the  sight  of  the  Prussians  only  em- 
bittered my  nature  ;  that  he  would  give  me  a  letter 
of  recommendation  for  one  of  his  intimate  friends 
in  Paris ;  that  I  would  obtain  there  a  situation 
with  a  small  salary,  either  on  the  railway  or  else- 
where ;  and  that  in  this  way,  when  my  pension 
was  paid  to  me,  I  could  live  in  peace,  not  happy, 
but  far  from  all  that  reminded  me  unceasingly  of 
my  misfortunes. 

I  was  ready  to  do  anything  that  he  wished, 
George,  but  he  wanted  nothing  but  for  my  own 
good. 

So  I  set  out,  and  for  the  last  three  years  I  have 
been  one  of  the  superintendents  of  the  Eastern 
Railway  Station. 


221 


Brigadier  Frederick 

XL 

When  I  arrived  in  the  midst  of  the  great  con- 
fusion after  the  siege,  I  had  the  pain  of  seeing  a 
terrible  thing,  the  recollection  of  which  adds  to 
my  suffering — Frenchmen  fighting  against  French- 
men. The  great  city  was  in  flames,  and  the  Prus- 
sians outside  looked  at  this  sight  with  a  barbar- 
ous joy. 

"  There  is  no  longer  any  Paris,"  they  said ; 
"  no  longer  any  Paris." 

The  horrible  envy  that  gnawed  these  people 
was  satisfied. 

Yes,  I  have  seen  that !  I  thought  that  it  was 
all  over  with  us ;  I  shuddered  at  it.  I  cried, 
"  The  Almighty  has  determined  that  France  shall 
descend  into  the  abyss  ! " 

But  that,  thanks  to  Heaven,  has  also  passed 
away.  The  recollection  remains ;  let  us  hope  that 
it  will  never  perish. 

And  that  was  not  all.  After  these  great  ca- 
lamities I  was  obliged  to  witness,  as  I  fulfilled  the 
duties  of  my  post,  pass,  day  by  day,  before  my 
eyes,  the  great  emigration  of  our  brothers  of  Alsace 
and  Lorraine  ;  men,  women,  children,  old  men,  by 
thousands,  going  to  earn  their  living  far  from  their 
native  land — in  Algeria,  in  America,  everywhere. 

222 


Brigadier  Frederick 

Our  poor  countrymen  all  recognised  me  by 
my  face  ;  they  said,  "He  is  one  of  our  people." 

The  sight  of  them  does  me  good  also ;  it  is 
like  a  breath  from  one's  native  land  of  good  and 
wholesome  air.  We  shook  hands.  I  pointed 
them  out  the  hotel  where  one  can  live  cheaply ;  I 
rendered  them  all  the  little  services  that  one  can 
render  to  friends  of  a  day,  who  will  retain  a  kind 
remembrance  of  him  who  held  out  his  hand  to 
them. 

And  in  the  evening,  when  I  went  back  to  my 
little  room  under  the  roof,  and  thinking  about 
these  things,  I  am  still  glad  at  not  being  quite 
useless  in  this  world  ;  it  is  my  only  consolation, 
George ;  sometimes  this  thought  gives  me  a  good 
night's  rest. 

Other  days,  when  the  weather  is  gloomy, 
when  it  rains,  when  it  is  cold,  or  when  I  have 
met  in  the  street  the  bier  of  a  young  girl,  with  its 
white  wreath,  then  sad  thoughts  get  the  upper 
hand.  I  wrap  my  old  cloak  around  me  when  my 
work  is  over,  and  I  wander  aimlessly  through  the 
streets,  among  the  people  who  are  all  occupied  by 
their  own  affairs  and  pay  no  attention  to  any  one. 
I  walk  very  far,  sometimes  to  the  Arc  de  Tri- 
omphe,  sometimes  to  the  Garden  of  Plants,  and  I 
return  utterly  exhausted.     I  fall  asleep,  trying  not 

223 


Brigadier  Frederick 

to  think  of  the  happy  days  of  the  past,  for  those 
remembrances  make  my  heart  throb  even  in  a 
dream,  and  suddenly  I  awake,  covered  with  per- 
spiration, and  crying : 

"All  is  over.  You  have  no  longer  a  daughter. 
You  are  alone  in  the  world." 

I  am  obliged  to  rise,  to  light  my  lamp,  and  to 
open  the  window  in  order  to  calm  myself  a  lit- 
tle, to  soothe  myself  and  to  restore  myself  to 
reason. 

Sometimes,  too,  I  dream  that  I  am  at  the 
forest  house  with  Jean  Merlin  and  Marie-Rose. 
I  see  them  ;  I  talk  to  them  ;  we  are  happy.  But 
when  I  awake — do  not  let  us  talk  of  it ;  what  is 
ended  cannot  return. 

Things  will  go  on  this  way  as  long  as  they 
can.  I  shall  not  be  buried  with  the  old  people, 
neither  with  Jean ;  nor  with  my  daughter.  We 
will  all  be  scattered.  This  thought  also  gives  me 
pain. 

I  must  confess,  George,  that  our  brothers  of 
Paris  have  received  us  very  well  ;  they  have 
helped  us,  they  have  aided  us  in  a  hundred  ways ; 
they  have  done  all  that  they  could  for  us.  But 
after  such  terrible  disasters,  they  themselves  hav- 
ing been  so  severely  tried,  the  poverty  was  still 
very  great ;   for  a  long   time  in   the   garrets  of 

224 


Brigadier  Frederick 

La  Villette,  of  La  Chapelle,  and  of  the  other 
suburbs,  we  suffered  from  cold  and  hunger. 

To-day  the  greatest  portion  of  the  stream  of 
emigration  has  passed ;  almost  all  the  labourers 
have  got  work  ;  the  women  and  the  old  people 
have  found  a  refuge,  and  the  children  are  receiv- 
ing instruction  in  the  public  schools. 

Others  are  always  coming,  the  emigation  will 
last  as  long  as  the  annexation,  for  Frenchmen 
cannot  bow  their  heads  like  the  Germans  under 
the  Prussians'  despotism,  and  the  annexation  will 
last  long  if  we  continue  to  dispute  over  party 
questions  instead  of  uniting  together  in  the  love 
of  our  fatherland. 

But  do  not  let  us  speak  of  our  dissensions; 
that  is  too  sad. 

The  only  thing  that  I  have  still  to  say  to  you 
before  ending  this  sorrowful  story  is,  that  in  the 
midst  of  my  misfortunes,  I  do  not  accuse  the 
Almighty ;  no,  the  Almighty  is  just ;  we  deserve 
to  suffer.  Whence  came  all  our  misfortunes? 
From  one  man  who  had  taken  an  oath  before 
God  to  obey  the  laws,  and  who  trampled  them 
under  his  feet,  who  had  those  killed  who  defended 
them,  and  transported  far  away  to  the  islands 
thousands  of  his  fellow  beings  whose  courage  and 
good   sense   he   feared.     Well,  this   man  we   ap- 

225 


Brigadier  Frederick 

proved  of ;  we  voted  for  him,  not  once  but  twenty 
times ;  we  took,  so  to  speak,  his  evil  actions  upon 
ourselves ;  we  threw  aside  justice  and  honour ;  we 
thought,  "  Interest  does  everything ;  this  man  is 
shrewd ;  he  has  succeeded ;  we  must  support 
him." 

When  I  remember  that  I  voted  for  that 
wretch,  knowing  that  it  was  not  just,  but  afraid 
of  losing  my  place,  when  I  remember  that,  I  cry, 
"  Frederick,  may  God  forgive  you  !  You  have 
lost  everything,  friends,  relatives,  country — every- 
thing. Confess  that  you  deserved  it.  You  were 
not  ashamed  to  support  the  man  who  caused 
thousands  of  Frenchmen,  as  honest  as  yourself, 
also  to  lose  their  little  all.  You  voted  for 
strength  against  justice ;  you  must  bow  beneath 
the  law  that  you  accepted.  And,  like  millions  of 
others,  you,  too,  gave  that  man  the  right  to  de- 
clare war  ;  he  did  so.  He  staked  you,  your  coun- 
try, your  family,  your  possessions,  those  of  all 
Frenchmen  in  the  interests  of  his  dynasty,  with- 
out thinking  of  anything,  without  reflecting  or 
taking  any  precautions ;  he  lost  the  game.  Pay 
and  be  silent.  Do  not  reproach  the  Almighty 
with  your  own  stupidity  and  injustice  ;  beat  your 
breast  and  bear  your  iniquity."  That  is  what  I 
think. 

226 


Brigadier  Frederick 

May  others  profit  by  my  example ;  may  they 
always  nominate  honest  people  to  represent 
them ;  may  honesty,  disinterestedness  and  patriot- 
ism come  before  anything  else  ;  people  who  are 
too  cunning  are  often  dishonest,  and  people  who 
are  too  bold,  who  do  not  fear  to  cry  out  against 
the  laws,  are  also  capable  of  upsetting  them  and 
of  putting  their  own  will  in  the  place  of  them. 

That  is  the  best  advice  to  be  given  to  the 
French ;  if  they  profit  by  it  all  will  go  well,  we 
will  regain  our  frontiers ;  if  they  do  not  profit  by 
it,  that  which  happened  to  the  Alsatians  and 
Lorrainers  will  happen  to  them  also,  province  by 
province  ;  they  may  repent,  but  it  will  be  too  late. 

As  to  the  Germans,  they  will  reap  what  they 
have  sown.  Now  they  are  at  the  pinnacle  of 
power  ;  they  made  all  Europe  tremble,  and  they 
are  foolish  enough  to  rejoice  at  it.  It  is  very 
dangerous  to  frighten  every  one  ;  we  learned  it  at 
our  own  expense ;  they  will  learn  it  in  their  turn. 
Because  Bismark  has  succeeded  in  his  enter- 
prises, they  look  upon  him  as  a  kind  of  a  god  ; 
they  will  not  see  that  this  man  employed  only 
dishonest  means :  strategy,  lies,  espionage,  corrup- 
tion and  violence.  Nothing  is  ever  firm  that  is 
erected  on  such  a  foundation. 

But  to  tell  all  this  or  nothing  to  the  Germans 
227 


Brigadier  Frederick 

would  come  to  the  same  thing  ;  they  are  intoxi- 
cated by  their  victories,  and  will  only  awake 
when  Europe,  wearied  by  their  ambition  and  by 
their  insolence,  will  rise  to  bring  them  to  reason ; 
then  they  will  be  forced  to  acknowledge,  as  we 
have  acknowledged  ourselves,  that,  if  strength 
sometimes  overwhelms  right,  justice  is  eternal. 


THE   END   OF    BRIGADIER    FREDERICK 


228 


THE  DEAN'S  WATCH 


I 

The  day  before  the  Christmas  of  1832,  my 
friend  Wilfrid,  his  double-bass  slung  over  his 
shoulder,  and  I  with  violin  under  my  arm,  were 
on  our  way  from  the  Black  Forest  to  Heidelberg. 
An  extraordinary  quantity  of  snow  had  fallen  that 
season.  As  far  as  our  eyes  could  see  over  the 
great  desert  plain  before  us,  not  a  trace  of  the 
route,  either  of  road  or  path,  was  to  be  discovered. 
The  north  wind  whistled  its  shrill  aria  about  our 
ears  with  a  monotonous  persistence,  and  Wilfrid, 
with  wallet  flattened  against  his  thin  back,  his 
long  heron-legs  stretched  to  the  utmost,  and  the 
visor  of  his  little  flat  cap  pulled  down  over  his 
nose,  strode  along  before  me,  humming  a  gay  air 
from  "  Ondine."  Every  now  and  then  he  turned 
his  head  with  a  grim  smile,  and  cried  : 

"  Comrade,  play  me  the  waltz  from  '  Robin ' — 
I  wish  to  dance  ! " 

A  peal  of  laughter  always  followed,  and  then 

3 


The  Dean's  Watch 

the  brave  fellow  would  push  on  again  with  fresh 
courage.  I  toiled  on  behind  in  his  footsteps,  with 
the  snow  up  to  my  knees,  and  my  spirits  sinking 
lower  and  lower  every  moment. 

The  heights  about  Heidelberg  had  begun  to 
appear  on  the  distant  horizon,  and  we  were  hoping 
to  reach  the  town  before  nightfall,  when  we  heard 
the  gallop  of  a  horse  behind  us.  It  was  about  five 
o'clock,  and  great  flakes  of  snow  were  whirling 
about  in  the  gray  light.  Soon  the  rider  was  within 
twenty  steps.  He  slackened  his  pace,  examining 
us  out  of  one  corner  of  his  eye.  We  also  exam- 
ined him. 

Imagine  a  big  man  with  red  beard  and  hair, 
wrapped  in  a  brown  cloak,  over  which  was  loosely 
thrown  a  pelisse  of  fox-skins ;  on  his  head  a 
superb  cocked-hat ;  his  hands  buried  in  fur  gloves 
reaching  to  the  elbows.  On  the  croup  of  his 
stout  stallion  was  strapped  a  well-filled  valise. 
Evidently  he  was  some  burly  sheriff,  or  burgo- 
master. 

"  Hey,  my  lads  ! "  he  cried,  drawing  one  of  his 
big  hands  from  the  muff  which  hung  across  his 
saddle-bow,  and  clapping  his  charger's  neck,  "  we 
are  going  to  Heidelberg,  I  see,  to  try  a  little 
music." 

Wilfrid  eyed  the  traveller  askance. 

4 


The  Dean's  Watch 

•*  Is  that  any  affair  of  yours,  sir  ?  "  he  answered, 
gruffly. 

"  Eh  ?  yes ;  I  should  have  a  piece  of  advice  to 
give  you." 

"  Well,  you  can  keep  it  till  it's  asked  for,"  re- 
torted Wilfrid,  quickening  his  pace. 

I  cast  a  second  glance  at  our  new  companion. 
He  looked  exactly  like  a  great  cat,  with  ears  stand- 
ing out  from  his  head,  his  eyelids  half  closed,  and 
a  long,  bristling  mustache ;  altogether  he  had  a 
sort  of  purring,  paternal  air. 

"  My  friend,"  he  began  again,  this  time  address- 
ing me,  "  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  return 
whence  you  came." 

"Why,  sir?" 

"The  famous  maestro  Prinenti,  from  Novare, 
has  announced  a  grand  Christmas  concert  at  Hei- 
delberg. Everybody  is  going  to  it ;  you  will  not 
get  a  single  kreutzer." 

This  was  too  much  for  Wilfrid. 

"  A  fig  for  your  maestro,  and  all  the  Prinentis 
in  this  world ! "  he  cried,  snapping  his  fingers. 
"  This  lad  here,  with  his  long  curls  and  blue  eyes, 
and  not  a  hair  yet  on  his  chin,  is  worth  an  army 
of  your  Italian  charlatans.  Though  he  never 
played  outside  the  Black  Forest,  he  can  handle  a 
bow  with  the  first  musician  in  Europe,  and  will 

5 


The  Dean's  Watch 

draw  melody  from  his  violin  such  as  was  never 
heard  before  in  Heidelberg." 

"  Hear,  hear  ! "  cried  the  stranger. 

"  It  is  just  as  I  tell  you,"  said  Wilfrid,  blowing 
on  his  fingers,  which  were  red  with  the  cold. 

Then  he  set  out  to  run,  and  I  followed  him  as 
best  I  might,  thinking  he  wished  to  make  game 
of  the  traveller,  who  kept  up  with  us,  however,  at 
a  little  trot. 

In  this  way  we  went  on  in  silence  for  more 
than  half  a  league.  Suddenly  the  stranger  cried 
out,  in  a  harsh  voice : 

"Whatever  your  talents  may  be,  go  back 
to  the  Black  Forest.  We  have  vagabonds 
enough  in  Heidelberg  already  without  you.  It 
is  good  advice  I  give  you — you  had  best  profit 
by  it." 

Wilfrid  was  about  to  make  an  angry  retort, 
but  the  rider  had  started  off  at  a  gallop,  and  al- 
ready reached  the  grand  avenue  of  the  elector. 
At  the  same  moment,  a  great  flock  of  crows  rose 
from  the  plain,  and  seemed  to  follow  him,  filling 
the  air  with  their  loud  cries. 

About  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  we  reached 
Heidelberg.  There,  in  fact,  we  found  posted  on 
all  the  walls  Prinenti's  flaming  placards,  "Grand 
Concert,    Solo,  etc.,  etc."     We   wandered   about 

6 


The  Dean's  Watch 

among  the  different  ale-houses,  in  which  we  met 
several  musicians  from  the  Black  Forest,  all  old 
comrades  of  ours,  who  immediately  engaged  us  to 
play  in  their  band.  There  were  old  Bremer,  the 
violoncellist ;  his  two  sons,  Ludwig  and  Carl,  capi- 
tal second  violins ;  Heinrich  Siebel,  the  clarinet- 
player  ;  and  big  Berthe  with  her  harp.  Wilfrid 
with  his  bass-viol,  and  myself  as  first  violin,  made 
up  the  troupe. 

It  was  agreed  that  we  should  all  go  together, 
make  one  purse,  and  divide  after  Christmas.  Wil- 
frid had  already  engaged  a  room  for  himself  and 
me.  It  was  on  the  sixth  story  of  the  little  tavern 
"  Pied-du-Mouton,"  in  the  middle  of  the  Holder- 
gasse,  and  was  only  a  garret,  though,  luckily,  it 
had  a  sheet-iron  stove,  in  which  we  lighted  a  fire 
to  dry  ourselves. 

While  we  were  sitting  quietly  over  the  fire, 
roasting  chestnuts  and  discussing  a  pot  of  wine, 
who  should  come  tripping  up  the  stairs  and  knock 
at  the  door  but  little  Annette,  the  maid  of  the  inn, 
in  scarlet  petticoat  and  black-velvet  bodice,  with 
cheeks  like  roses,  and  lips  as  red  as  cherries ! 
Next  moment  she  had  thrown  herself  into  my 
arms  with  a  cry  of  joy. 

We  were  old  friends,  the  pretty  Annette  and 
I,  for  we  were  both  from  the  same  village,  and,  to 

7 


The  Dean's  Watch 

say  truth,  my  heart  had  long  been  captive  to  her 
bright  eyes  and  coquettish  airs. 

"  I  saw  you  go  up  just  now,"  she  said,  drawing 
a  stool  to  my  side,  "and  here  I  am,  come  for  a 
minute's  talk  with  you." 

With  that  she  began  such  a  string  of  questions 
about  this  one  and  that — in  fact,  about  every  one 
in  our  village — that  I  declare  to  you  it  was  as 
much  as  I  could  do  to  answer  the  half  of  them. 
Every  little  while  she  would  stop  and  look  at  me 
with  such  a  tender  air — we  would  have  been  there 
till  this  time,  had  not  suddenly  Mother  Grader 
Dick  screamed  from  the  bottom  of  the  stairs : 

"  Annette,  Annette,  are  you  ever  coming  ?  " 

"  This  minute,  madame,  this  minute,"  cried  the 
poor  child,  jumping  up  in  a  fright.  She  gave  me 
a  little  pat  on  the  cheek,  and  flew  to  the  door. 
But,  just  as  she  was  going  out,  she  stopped. 

"  Ah  !  "  she  cried,  turning  back,  "  I  forgot  to 
tell  you.     Have  you  heard ? " 

"What?" 

"  The  death  of  our  pro-recteur  Zahn  ?  " 

44  Well,  what  is  that  to  us  ?  " 

44  Ah,  yes  ;  but  take  care,  sir,  take  care — if 
your  papers  are  not  all  right !  To-morrow  morn- 
ing, at  eight  o'clock,  they  will  come  to  ask  for 
them.     They  have  arrested,  oh  !  so  many  people 

3 


The  Dean's  Watch 

during  the  last  two  weeks.  The  pro-recteur  was 
assassinated  yesterday  evening,  in  the  library,  at 
the  Cloister  of  Saint-Christophe.  Last  week  the 
old  priest,  Ulmet  Elias,  who  lived  in  the  Jews' 
quarter,  was  killed  in  the  same  way.  Only  a  few 
days  before  that  they  murdered  the  nurse,  Chris- 
tina Haas,  and  Seligmann,  the  agate-merchant  of 
the  Rue  Durlach.  So,  my  poor  Kasper,"  she 
added,  with  a  tender  glance,  "take  good  care  of 
yourself,  and  be  sure  that  your  papers  are  all 
right." 

All  the  while  she  was  speaking,  the  cries  below 
continued. 

"  Annette,  O  Annette,  will  you  come  ?  Oh, 
the  miserable  creature,  to  leave  me  here  all 
alone  ! " 

And  now,  too,  we  could  hear  the  shouts  of 
the  guests  in  the  saloon  calling  for  wine,  beer, 
ham,  sausages.  Annette  saw  that  she  must  go, 
and  ran  down  the  stairs  as  quickly  as  she  had 
come  up. 

"  Mon  Dieu  /  mon  Dieu!"  I  heard  her  soft 
voice  answering  her  mistress,  "what  can  be  the 
matter,  madame,  that  you  should  make  such  an 
outcry  ?  One  would  think  the  house  were  on 
fire." 

Wilfrid  closed  the  door  after  her,  and  came 

9 


The  Dean's  Watch 

back  to  his  seat.  We  looked  at  each  other  with 
some  uneasiness. 

"This  is  strange  news,"  said  he  at  last.  "At 
any  rate,  your  papers  are  all  in  order  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  I  replied,  and  showed  him  my 
pass. 

"  Good  !  There  is  mine,  I  had  it  visaed  before 
we  left.  But  still,  all  these  murders  bode  no  good 
to  us.  I  am  afraid  we  shall  make  but  a  poor  busi- 
ness here.  Many  families  must  be  in  mourning, 
and  then,  besides  all  these  annoyances,  the  trouble 
which  the  police  will  give  us." 

"  Bah  !"  cried  I,  "you  take  too  dismal  a  view 
of  everything." 

We  continued  to  talk  about  these  strange 
events  until  long  past  midnight.  The  fire  in  our 
little  stove  lighted  up  the  angles  of  the  roof,  the 
square  dormer  window  with  its  three  cracked  panes 
of  glass,  the  mattress  spread  upon  the  bare  boards, 
the  blackened  beams  overhead,  the  little  fir  table, 
which  cast  an  unsteady  shadow  on  the  worm-eaten 
floor.  A  mouse,  attracted  by  the  heat,  darted  back 
and  forth  like  an  arrow  along  the  wall.  We  could 
hear  the  wind  without,  whistling  and  bellowing 
around  the  high  chimney-stacks,  sweeping  the 
snow  from  the  gutters  beneath  the  eaves  in  misty 
swirls.     I  was  dreaming  of  Annette.     Silence  had 

10 


The  Dean's  Watch 

fallen  upon  us.  Suddenly  Wilfrid,  throwing  off 
his  coat,  cried : 

"  It  is  time  to  sleep  ;  put  another  stick  of  wood 
in  the  stove,  and  let  us  go  to  bed." 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  best  thing  we  can  do,"  said  I, 
and  began  to  pull  off  my  boots.  Two  minutes 
afterward  we  were  stretched  on  the  mattress,  the 
coverings  drawn  up  to  our  chins,  and  a  great  log 
under  our  heads  for  a  pillow.  Wilfrid  was  asleep 
in  a  moment.  The  light  from  the  little  stove 
blazed  up  and  died  away,  the  wind  redoubled  its 
violence  without,  and,  in  the  midst  of  dreams  of 
Annette,  I,  too,  in  my  turn,  slept  the  sleep  of  the 
just. 

About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  was 
awakened  by  a  strange  noise.  At  first  I  thought 
it  was  a  cat  running  along  the  gutters ;  but,  my 
ear  being  close  to  the  rafters,  I  could  not  remain 
long  in  doubt.  Some  one  was  walking  over  the 
roof.  I  touched  Wilfrid  with  my  elbow  to  awaken 
him. 

"Hist ! "  whispered  he,  pressing  my  hand. 

He  also  had  heard  the  noise.  The  fire  was 
just  dying  out,  the  last  feeble  flame  flickered  on 
the  crumbling  walls.  I  was  on  the  point  of  spring- 
ing from  the  bed,  when,  at  a  single  blow,  the  little 
window,  kept  closed  by  a  fragment  of  brick,  was 

ii 


The  Dean's  Watch 

pushed  open.  A  pale  face,  with  red  hair,  eyes 
gleaming  with  phosphorescent  light,  and  quivering 
cheeks  appeared  in  the  opening,  and  looked  about 
the  room.  Our  fright  was  so  great  that  we  could 
not  utter  a  sound.  The  man  passed  first  one  leg, 
then  the  other,  through  the  window,  and  descended 
into  the  garret  so  carefully  that  not  a  board  creaked 
under  his  footsteps. 

This  man,  with  heavy,  round  shoulders,  short 
and  thick-set,  his  face  wrinkled  and  set  like  a  tiger 
couched  to  spring,  was  none  other  than  the  rider 
who  had  overtaken  us  on  the  road  to  Heidelberg. 
But  what  a  change  in  his  appearance  since  then ! 
In  spite  of  the  excessive  cold,  he  was  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves, a  pair  of  breeches  belted  about  his  waist, 
woollen  stockings,  and  shoes  with  silver  buckles. 
A  long  knife,  flecked  with  blood,  glittered  in  his 
hand. 

Wilfrid  and  I  gave  ourselves  up  for  lost.  But 
he  did  not  seem  to  see  us  under  the  shadow  of  the 
sloping  roof,  although  the  fire  was  fanned  again 
into  a  blaze  by  the  current  of  cold  air  from  the 
open  window.  The  intruder  seated  himself  on  a 
stool,  cowering  and  shivering  in  a  strange  way. 
Suddenly  his  greenish-yellow  eyes  fixed  themselves 
on  me,  his  nostrils  dilated  ;  for  more  than  a  minute, 
which  seemed  to  me  an  age,  he  stared  at  me.    The 

12 


The  Dean's  Watch 

blood  stood  still  in  my  veins.  Then  at  last,  turn- 
ing towards  the  fire,  he  coughed  with  a  husky, 
hoarse  sound,  like  that  which  a  cat  makes,  without 
moving  a  muscle  of  his  face.  Drawing  a  watch 
from  the  fob  of  his  pantaloons,  he  seemed  to  look 
at  the  hour,  and  then,  whether  from  absence  of 
mind  or  some  other  reason,  I  know  not,  laid  it 
upon  the  table.  At  length,  rising  from  his  seat 
with  an  air  of  uncertainty,  he  looked  towards  the 
window,  appeared  for  a  moment  to  hesitate,  and 
then  passed  out  of  the  door,  leaving  it  wide  open 
behind  him. 

I  jumped  up  to  shove  the  bolt,  but  already  the 
man's  steps  were  creaking  on  the  staircase  two 
stories  below.  An  irresistible  curiosity  overcame 
my  terror.  I  heard  a  window  open,  which  looked 
upon  the  court,  and,  in  a  moment,  I  was  at  the 
dormer  in  the  landing  of  the  stairs  on  the  same 
side.  The  court,  seen  from  this  height,  was  like  a 
deep  well.  A  wall,  fifty  or  sixty  feet  high,  divided 
it  into  two  parts.  On  the  right  was  the  court  of 
a  pork-butcher ;  on  the  left,  that  of  the  Pied-du- 
Mouton.  The  wall  was  covered  with  moss  and 
the  rank  vegetation  which  flourishes  in  the  shade. 
Its  summit  reached  from  the  window  which  the 
marauder  had  just  opened,  in  a  straight  line  to 
the  roof  of  a  great,  gloomy  building  in  the  rear  of 

13 


The  Dean's  Watch 

the  Bergstrasse.  All  this  I  took  in  at  a  glance, 
as  the  moon  shone  out  from  among  the  heavy 
snow-laden  clouds,  and  I  trembled  as  I  saw  the 
man  come  out  through  the  window,  and  fly  along 
the  top  of  this  wall,  his  head  bent  forward,  the 
long  knife  in  his  hand,  while  the  wind  whistled 
and  wailed  a  dismal  chorus. 

He  gained  the  roof  in  front,  and  disappeared 
through  a  window.  I  believed  I  must  be  dream- 
ing. For  several  moments  I  remained  with  open 
mouth,  my  breast  bare,  and  my  hair  blown  about 
by  the  wind  and  wet  by  the  sleet  which  fell  from 
the  eaves.  At  last,  waking  from  my  stupor,  I 
returned  to  our  garret,  and  found  Wilfrid  with 
face  blanched,  and  haggard  with  fright,  and  mut- 
tering a  prayer  under  his  breath.  I  hastened  to 
bolt  the  door,  throw  some  wood  into  the  stove, 
and  slip  on  my  clothes. 

"Well?"  asked  my  comrade,  getting  out  of 
bed. 

11  Well,"  I  replied,  "  we  are  safe  this  time.  If 
that  man  did  not  see  us,  it  was  only  because 
Heaven  was  not  ready  yet  for  us  to  die." 

"Yes,"  he  murmured,  "yes;  it  is  one  of  the 
assassins  Annette  told  us  about.  Good  Heavens ! 
what  a  face !  and  what  a  knife ! " 

He  fell  back  on  the  mattress.  I  swallowed 
14 


The  Dean's  Watch 

what  was  left  of  the  wine  in  the  pitcher ;  and,  as 
the  fire  was  now  burning  brightly,  filling  the  room 
with  its  heat,  and  the  bolt  seemed  a  strong  one,  I 
began  to  regain  my  courage. 

Still,  the  watch  was  there ;  the  man  might  re- 
turn to  look  for  it.  Our  fears  awoke  again  at 
this  idea. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  now  ? "  asked  Wilfrid. 
"  Our  shortest  plan  will  be  to  go  back  at  once  to 
the  Black  Forest.  I  have  no  wish  to  play  any 
more  double-bass.    You  can  do  as  you  choose " 

"  But  why  ?  What  should  make  us  go  back  ? 
We  have  committed  no  crime." 

"  Hush  !  speak  low ! "  whispered  he.  "  The 
word  crime  alone  is  enough  to  hang  us  if  any  one 
heard.  Poor  devils  like  us  serve  as  examples  for 
others.  Were  they  only  to  find  this  watch 
here " 

"  Come,  Wilfrid,"  said  I ;  "  it  is  no  use  to  lose 
one's  head.  I  dare  say,  a  crime  has  been  com- 
mitted this  night  in  the  neighbourhood,  it  is  more 
than  probable;  but,  instead  of  flying,  an  honest 
man  should  aid  justice  ;  he  should " 

14  But  how  aid  it  ?  how  ?  " 

"  The  simplest  way  will  be  to  take  the  watch 
to-morrow  to  the  provost,  and  tell  him  what  has 
taken  place." 

IS 


The  Dean's  Watch 

"  Never !  never !  I  would  not  dare  touch  the 
watch." 

"  Very  well ;  I  will  go  myself.  Come,  let  us 
go  to  bed  again." 

"No;  I  cannot  sleep  any  more." 

44  As  you  will. — Light  your  pipe,  then,  and  let 
us  talk." 

As  soon  as  day  dawned,  I  took  the  watch 
from  the  table.  It  was  a  very  fine  one,  with  two 
dials — one  for  the  hours,  the  other  for  the  min- 
utes. Wilfrid  seemed,  however,  by  this  time,  to 
have  regained  his  assurance. 

44  Kasper,"  he  said,  4<  all  things  considered,  it 
will  be  better  for  me  to  go  to  the  provost.  You 
are  too  young  for  such  a  piece  of  business.  You 
will  not  be  able  to  explain  properly." 

44  Just  as  you  choose,"  I  replied. 

44  Besides,  it  would  seem  strange  for  a  man  of 
my  age  to  send  a  child." 

44  Oh,  yes,  Wilfrid ;  I  understand." 

I  saw  that  his  self-esteem  had  driven  him  to 
this  resolution.  He  would  have  been  ashamed  to 
own  to  his  comrades  that  he  had  shown  less  cour- 
age than  I. 

He  took  the  watch,  and  we  descended  the 
stairs  with  grave  faces.  Passing  through  the  alley 
which  leads  to  the  street   Saint-Christophe,   we 

16 


The  Dean's  Watch 


/ 


heard  the  clinking  of  glasses  and  knives  and 
forks.  At  the  same  time  I  recognised  the  voices 
of  old  Bremer  and  his  two  sons. 

"  Faith,  Wilfrid,"  said  I,  "  a  good  glass  of  wine 
would  not  be  bad  before  we  go  out." 

I  pushed  open  the  door  into  the  saloon.  All 
our  friends  were  there;  violins  and  horns  hung 
upon  the  walls — the  harp  in  one  corner.  They 
received  us  with  joyful  cries  of  welcome,  and 
made  us  take  seats  at  the  table. 

"Hey!"  cried  old  Bremer;  "good  luck,  com- 
rades !  See  the  snow,  and  the  wind !  The  saloons 
will  all  be  full.  Every  flake  of  snow  in  the  air 
is  a  florin  in  our  pockets ! " 

The  sight  of  my  little  Annette,  as  fresh  and 
piquant  as  ever,  smiling  on  me  with  eyes  and  lips 
full  of  love,  gave  me  new  spirits.  The  best  pieces 
of  ham  were  for  me;  and,  every  time  that  she 
came  to  set  down  a  glass  near  me,  her  hand  would 
tenderly  press  my  shoulder.  Ah !  how  my  heart 
beat,  as  I  thought  of  the  nuts  which  we  had 
cracked  together  the  night  before ! 

Still,  the  pale  face  of  the  assassin  would  pass 
from  time  to  time  before  my  eyes,  making  me 
shudder  at  the  recollection.  I  looked  at  Wilfrid. 
He  was  grave  and  thoughtful.  As  eight  o'clock 
struck,  we  all  rose  to  go,  when  suddenly  the  door 


The  Dean's  Watch 

opened,  and  three  mean-looking  fellows,  with 
leaden  faces,  and  eyes  sharp  as  rats',  followed  by 
several  more  of  the  same  sort,  presented  them- 
selves on  the  threshold.  One  of  them,  with  a 
long  nose,  which  seemed  to  be  on  the  scent  for 
some  mischief,  a  great  cudgel  in  his  fist,  advanced 
with  the  demand — 

"  Your  papers,  gentlemen  ! " 

Every  one  hastened  to  satisfy  him.  Unhap- 
pily, however,  Wilfrid,  who  was  standing  near  the 
stove,  was  seized  with  a  sudden  fit  of  trembling ; 
and,  as  he  saw  the  practised  eye  of  the  police 
agent  regarding  him  with  an  equivocal  look,  the 
unlucky  idea  occurred  to  him  of  letting  the  watch 
slip  down  into  his  boot.  Before  it  reached  its 
destination,  however,  the  officer  stepped  up  to 
him,  and,  slapping  him  on  the  leg,  cried,  in  a  ban- 
tering tone : 

41  Ah !  ha !  something  seems  to  trouble  you 
here!" 

Upon  this,  Wilfrid,  to  the  consternation  of  all, 
succumbed  entirely.  He  fell  back  upon  a  bench, 
as  pale  as  death ;  and  Madoc,  the  chief  of  police, 
with  a  malicious  shout  of  laughter,  drew  forth  the 
watch  from  his  pantaloons.  But,  the  moment  the 
agent  looked  at  it,  he  became  grave. 

"Let  no  one  go  out!"  he  thundered  to  his 
18 


The  Dean's  Watch 

followers ;  "  we've  the  whole  gang  here.  '  Tis  the 
watch  of  the  dean,  Daniel  Van  der  Berg.  Quick  I 
the  handcuffs ! " 

Thereupon  arose  a  terrible  tumult.  Giving 
ourselves  up  for  lost,  I  slipped  down  under  the 
bench  close  to  the  wall.  In  spite  of  their  pro- 
tests, poor  old  Bremer,  his  sons,  and  Wilfrid,  were 
all  handcuffed.  Just  then  I  felt  a  soft  little  hand 
passed  gently  about  my  neck.  It  was  Annette's, 
and  I  pressed  my  lips  upon  it  as  a  last  adieu, 
when,  seizing  my  ear,  she  pulled  it  gently — 
gently.  Under  one  end  of  the  table  I  saw  the 
cellar-door  open ;  I  slipped  through ;  the  trap-door 
closed. 

All  had  passed  in  a  second.  In  my  hiding- 
place  I  heard  them  trampling  over  the  door ;  then 
everything  was  still ;  my  unlucky  comrades  were 
gone.  Without,  on  the  door-step,  I  heard  Mother 
Gr6del  Dick  lamenting  in  shrill  tones  the  dishon- 
our which  had  fallen  on  the  Pied-du-Mouton. 

All  day  long  I  remained  squeezed  behind  a 
hogshead,  with  back  bent  and  legs  doubled  under 
me — a  prey  to  a  thousand  fears.  Should  a  dog 
stray  into  the  cellar — should  the  landlady  take  a 
fancy  to  refill  the  jug  herself,  or  a  fresh  cask  have 
to  be  broached — the  least  chance  might  be  my 
destruction.    I  imagined  old  Bremer  and  his  sons, 

*9 


The  Dean's  Watch 

Wilfrid,  big  Berthe  herself,  all  hanging  from  the 
gibbet  on  the  Harberg,  in  the  middle  of  a  great 
flock  of  crows  that  were  feasting  at  their  expense. 
My  hair  stood  on  end. 

Annette,  as  anxious  as  myself,  carefully  closed 
the  door  each  time  she  left  the  cellar. 

"  Leave  the  door  alone,"  I  heard  the  old 
woman  say.  "Are  you  a  fool,  to  lose  half  your 
time  in  opening  it  ?  " 

After  that  the  door  remained  open.  I  saw  the 
tables  surrounded  by  new  guests,  who  discussed  in 
loud  tones  the  doings  of  the  famous  band  of  mur- 
derers who  had  just  been  captured,  and  exulted 
over  the  fate  in  store  for  them.  All  the  musicians 
from  the  Black  Forest,  they  said,  were  bandits, 
who  made  a  pretence  of  their  trade  to  find  their 
way  into  houses  and  spy  out  the  bolts  and  bars, 
and  then,  next  morning,  the  master  would  be 
found  murdered  in  his  bed,  the  mistress  and  chil- 
dren with  their  throats  cut.  They  ought  all  to  be 
exterminated  without  pity. 

"All  the  town  will  go  to  see  them  hanged  !" 
cried  Mother  Gr£del.  "It  will  be  the  happiest 
day  of  my  life  ! " 

"  And  to  think  that  the  watch  of  Maitre  Dan- 
iel was  the  means  of  their  capture  !  He  told  the 
police  of  its  loss,  and  gave  them  a  description  of 

20 


The  Dean's  Watch 

it  this  morning ;  and,  an  hour  afterward,  Madoc 
bagged  the  whole  covey." 

Thereupon  followed  shouts  of  laughter  and 
triumph.  Shame,  indignation,  terror,  made  me 
hot  and  cold  by  turns. 

Night  came  at  last.  All  the  drinkers  had 
gone,  save  two  or  three  who  still  lingered  over 
their  cups.  A  single  candle  remained  lighted  in 
the  saloon. 

"Go  to  bed,  madame,"  said  Annette's  soft 
voice  to  Mother  Gr6del ;  "  I  will  stay  till  these 
gentlemen  go." 

The  carousers,  tipsy  as  they  were,  understood 
the  hint,  and  took  their  leave,  one  by  one. 

"At  last,"  thought  I,  as  I  heard  the  last  one 
go,  stumbling  and  hiccoughing  through  the  door 
— "  they  are  all  gone.  Mother  Gr£del  will  go  to 
bed.  Annette  will  come,  without  delay,  to  deliver 
me. 

In  this  agreeable  anticipation,  I  had  already 
disentangled  my  numb  limbs,  when  these  dreadful 
words  of  the  portly  landlady  met  my  ears : 

11  Annette,  go  and  close  up,  and  do  not  forget 
the  bar.     I  am  going  myself  into  the  cellar." 

Alas !  this  seemed  to  be  the  praiseworthy,  but 
for  me  most  unlucky,  custom  of  the  good  lady — 
so  as  to  see  herself  that  all  was  right 

21 


The  Dean's  Watch 

•'But,  madame,"  stammered  Annette,  "there 
is  no  need  ;  the  cask  is  not  empty " 

11  Mind  your  own  business,"  interrupted  her 
mistress,  whose  candle  already  was  shining  at  the 
top  of  the  steps. 

I  had  hardly  time  to  crouch  again  behind  the 
cask.  The  old  woman  went  from  one  cask  to  the 
other,  stooping  beneath  the  low  ceiling  of  the 
vault. 

"  Oh,  the  hussy  ! "  I  heard  her  mutter ;  "  how 
she  lets  the  wine  leak  out !  But  only  wait — I  will 
teach  her  to  close  the  stopcocks  better.  Just  to 
see  !  just  to  see ! " 

The  light  cast  dark  shadows  on  the  walls  glis- 
tening with  moisture.  I  made  myself  as  small  as 
possible. 

Suddenly,  just  as  I  thought  the  danger  over,  I 
heard  a  sigh  from  the  stout  dame — a  sigh  so  long, 
so  lugubrious,  that  it  struck  me  at  once.  Some- 
thing extraordinary  must  have  happened.  I  risked 
a  look.  To  my  horror,  I  saw  Mother  Gr£del, 
with  open  mouth,  and  eyes  starting  from  her  head, 
staring  at  the  ground  beneath  the  cask  behind 
which  I  was  standing  motionless.  She  had  espied 
one  of  my  feet,  projecting  beneath  the  joist  which 
supported  the  hogshead.  No  doubt,  she  thought 
she  had  discovered  the  chief  of  the  brigands,  hid- 

22 


The  Dean's  Watch 

den  there  for  the  purpose  of  cutting  her  throat 
during  the  night.  My  resolution  was  taken  quick- 
ly.    Rising  up,  I  said  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  Madame,  for  Heaven's  sake,  have  pity  on 
me  !     I  am " 

But  thereupon,  without  listening — without 
even  looking  at  me,  she  began  to  scream  like  any 
peacock — the  shrillest,  the  most  ear-piercing 
screams — and  at  the  same  time  to  clamber  up  the 
stairs  as  fast  as  her  fat  body  would  let  her.  Al- 
most beside  myself  with  terror,  I  clung  to  her 
robe — fell  on  my  knees  beside  her.  But  this  was 
worse  still. 

"  Help !  help !  assassins !  murder ! "  she  shrieked. 
"  Oh !  oh !  Let  me  go  !  Take  my  money  !  Oh ! 
oh!" 

It  was  frightful. 

"  Look  at  me,  madame,"  I  tried  to  say  ;  "I  am 
not  what  you  think." 

But  she  was  crazy  with  fear;  she  raved,  she 
gasped,  she  bawled  at  the  top  of  her  lungs — so 
that,  had  we  not  been  underground,  the  whole 
quarter  would  have  been  aroused.  In  despair,  and 
furious  at  her  stupid  folly,  I  clambered  over  her 
back,  and  gained  the  door  before  her— slammed 
it  in  her  face,  and  shoved  the  bolt.  During  the 
struggle  the  light  had  been  extinguished,  and  Mis- 

23 


The  Dean's  Watch 

tress  Gr£del  remained  in  the  dark,  her  voice  only 
faintly  heard  at  intervals. 

Exhausted,  almost  annihilated,  I  looked  at 
Annette,  whose  distress  was  equal  to  mine.  We 
stood  listening  in  silence  to  the  faint  cries.  Grad- 
ually they  died  away  and  ceased.  The  poor 
woman  must  have  fainted. 

"Oh,  Kasper!"  cried  Annette,  clasping  her 
hands.  "  What  is  to  be  done  ?  Fly  !  Save  your- 
self !    Have  you  killed  her  ?  " 

"Killed  her?    I?" 

"  No  matter — fly !     Here— quick  ! " 

And  she  drew  the  bar  from  before  the  street- 
door.  I  rushed  into  the  street,  without  even 
thanking  her — ungrateful  wretch  that  I  was  !  The 
night  was  black  as  ink — not  a  star  to  be  seen,  not 
a  lamp  lighted,  snow  driving  before  the  wind.  I 
ran  on  for  half  an  hour,  at  least,  before  I  stopped 
to  take  breath.  I  looked  up — imagine  my  despair 
— there  I  was,  right  in  front  of  the  Pied-du. 
Mouton  again.  In  my  terror  I  had  made  the  tour 
of  the  quarter  perhaps  two  or  three  times,  for 
aught  I  knew.  My  legs  were  like  lead ;  my  knees 
trembled. 

The  inn,  just  before  deserted,  was  buzzing  like 
a  bee-hive.  Lights  went  from  window  to  window. 
It  was  full,  no  doubt,  of  police-agents.    Exhausted 

24 


The  Dean's  Watch 

with  hunger  and  fatigue,  desperate,  not  knowing 
where  to  find  refuge,  I  took  the  most  singular  of 
all  my  resolutions. 

"  Faith,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  one  death  as  well 
as  another !  It  is  no  worse  to  be  hung  than  to 
leave  one's  bones  on  the  road  to  the  Black  Forest. 
Here  goes ! " 

And  I  entered  the  inn  to  deliver  myself  up  to 
justice.  Besides  the  shabby  men  with  crushed 
hats  and  big  sticks  whom  I  had  already  seen  in 
the  morning,  who  were  going  and  coming,  and 
prying  everywhere,  before  a  table  were  seated 
the  grand-provost  Zimmer,  dressed  all  in  black, 
solemn,  keen-eyed,  and  the  secretary  Roth,  with 
his  red  wig,  imposing  smile,  and  great,  flat  ears, 
like  oyster-shells.  They  paid  hardly  any  attention 
at  all  to  me — a  circumstance  which  at  once  modi- 
fied my  resolution.  I  took  a  seat  in  one  corner  of 
the  hall,  behind  the  great  stove,  in  company  with 
two  or  three  of  the  neighbours,  who  had  run  in  to 
see  what  was  going  on,  and  called  calmly  for  a 
pint  of  wine  and  a  plate  of  sauerkraut. 

Annette  came  near  betraying  me. 

"  Ah,  good  Heavens  ! "  she  exclaimed  ;  "  is  it 
possible  that  you  are  here  ?  " 

But  luckily  no  one  noticed  her  exclamation, 
and  I  ate  my  meal  with  better  appetite,  and  listened 

25 


The  Dean's  Watch 

to  the  examination  of  the  good  lady  GreMel,  who 
sat  propped  up  in  a  big  arm-chair,  with  hair  di- 
shevelled, and  eyes  still  dilated  by  her  fright. 

"  Of  what  age  did  this  man  seem  to  be  ?"  asked 
the  provost. 

"  Forty  or  fifty,  sir.  It  was  an  immense 
man,  with  black  whiskers,  or  brown — I  don't 
know  exactly  which — and  a  long  nose,  and  green 
eyes." 

"  Had  he  no  marks  of  any  kind — scars,  for  in- 
stance ?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  remember.  Luckily,  I  screamed 
so  loud,  he  was  frightened ;  and  then  I  defended 
myself  with  my  nails.  He  had  a  great  hammer 
and  pistols.  He  seized  me  by  the  throat.  Ah ! 
you  know,  sir,  when  one  tries  to  murder  you,  you 
have  to  defend  yourself." 

"  Nothing  more  natural,  more  legitimate,  my 
dear  madame. — Write,  M.  R6th — 'The  courage 
and  presence  of  mind  of  this  excellent  lady  were 
truly  admirable.' " 

Then  came  Annette's  turn,  who  simply  de- 
clared that  she  had  been  so  frightened  she  could 
remember  nothing. 

" This  will  do,"  said  the  provost.  "If  we 
need  to  make  further  inquiry,  we  will  return  to- 
morrow." 

26 


The  Dean's  Watch 

The  examination  being  thus  ended,  every  one 
departed,  and  I  asked  Mme.  Gr£del  to  give  me  a 
room  for  the  night.  She  did  not  in  the  least  recol- 
lect ever  having  seen  me  before. 

"Annette,"  she  gasped,  "take  the  gentleman 
to  the  little  green  room  in  the  third  story.  As 
for  myself,  sir,  you  see  I  cannot  even  stand  on  my 
legs !  O  good  Lord  !  good  Lord  !  what  does  not 
one  have  to  go  through  in  this  world  ! " 

With  this  she  fell  to  sobbing,  which  seemed  to 
relieve  her. 

"  Oh,  Kasper,  Kasper  ! "  cried  Annette,  when 
she  had  taken  me  to  my  room,  and  we  were  alone, 
"  who  would  have  believed  that  you  were  one  of 
the  band  ?  I  can  never,  never  forgive  myself  for 
having  loved  a  brigand  ! " 

"How?  Annette,  you  too?"  I  exclaimed; 
"  this  is  too  much  ! " 

"  No,  no  ! "  she  cried,  throwing  her  arms  about 
my  neck,  "  you  are  not  one  of  them — you  are  too 
good  for  that.  Still,  you  are  a  brave  man  just  the 
same  to  have  come  back." 

I  explained  to  her  that  I  should  have  died  of 
cold  outside,  and  that  this  alone  had  decided  me. 
After  a  few  minutes,  however,  we  parted  so  as 
not  to  arouse  Mother  Gr6del's  suspicions,  and 
having  made  certain  that  none  of  the  windows 

27 


The  Dean's  Watch 

opened  on  a  wall,  and  that  the  bolt  on  the  door 
was  a  good  one,  I  went  to  bed  and  soon  was  fast 
asleep. 


II 


When  I  drew  the  curtain  of  my  bed  next 
morning,  I  saw  that  the  window-panes  were  white 
with  snow,  which  was  heaped  up  also  on  the  sill 
without.  I  thought  mournfully  of  my  poor  com- 
rades' fate.  How  they  must  have  suffered  from 
cold !  Old  Bremer  and  big  Berthe  especially — 
my  heart  ached  for  them. 

While  I  was  absorbed  in  these  sad  reflections 
a  strange  noise  arose  outside.  It  drew  near  the 
inn,  and,  not  without  fear  and  trembling,  I  jumped 
out  of  bed  and  rushed  to  the  window,  to  see  what 
new  danger  threatened. 

They  were  bringing  the  terrible  band  to  con- 
front it  with  Mme.  Gr6del  Dick.  My  poor  com- 
panions came  down  the  street  between  two  files  of 
policemen,  and  followed  by  a  perfect  avalanche  of 
ragamuffins,  yelling  and  hissing  like  true  savages. 
There  was  poor  Bremer,  handcuffed  to  his  son 
Ludwig,  then  Carl  and  Wilfrid,  and  last  of  all 
stout  Berthe,  who  walked  by  herself,  lamenting 
her  fate  all  the  while  in  heart-rending  tones  : 

28 


The  Dean's  Watch 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  gentlemen,  for  Heaven's 
sake,  have  pity  on  a  poor  innocent  harpist !  I — 
kill !  I — rob  !  Oh  !  good  Lord  !  can  it  be  pos- 
sible?" 

And  she  wrung  her  hands.  The  others  looked 
doleful  enough  as  they  walked  with  heads  bent, 
and  dishevelled  hair  hanging  over  their  faces. 

The  procession,  rabble  and  all,  turned  into  the 
dark  alley  which  led  to  the  inn.  Presently  the 
guards  drove  out  the  eager  crowd,  who  remained 
outside  in  the  mud,  with  their  noses  flattened 
against  the  window-panes. 

I  dressed  myself  quickly,  and  opened  my  door, 
to  see  if  there  were  not  some  chance  of  escape, 
but  I  could  hear  voices  and  footsteps  going  to  and 
fro  down-stairs,  and  made  up  my  mind  that  the 
passages  were  well  guarded.  My  door  opened  on 
the  landing,  just  opposite  the  window  which  our 
midnight  visitor  of  the  night  before  must  have 
used  in  his  flight.  At  first  I  paid  no  attention  to 
this  window,  but,  while  I  remained  listening,  on  a 
sudden  I  perceived  that  it  was  open — that  there 
was  but  little  snow  on  the  sill,  and  drawing  near  I 
perceived  that  there  were  fresh  tracks  along  the 
wall.  I  shuddered  at  this  discovery.  The  man 
had  been  there  again,  perhaps  he  came  every 
night.     The  cat,  the  weasel,  the  ferret,  all  such 

29 


The  Dean's  Watch 

beasts  of  prey,  have  their  accustomed  paths  in  this 
way.  In  a  moment,  everything  was  clear  to  my 
mind. 

11  Ah,"  thought  I,  "if  chance  has  thus  put  the 
assassin's  fate  in  my  hands,  my  poor  comrades  may 
be  saved." 

Just  at  this  moment  the  door  of  the  saloon 
was  opened,  and  I  could  hear  some  words  of  the 
examination  going  on. 

"Do  you  admit  having  participated,  on  the 
20th  of  this  month,  in  the  assassination  of  the 
priest  Ulmet  Elias  ? " 

Then  followed  some  words  which  I  could  not 
make  out,  and  the  door  was  closed  again.  I  leaned 
my  head  on  the  banister,  debating  in  my  mind  a 
great,  an  heroic  resolution.  "  Heaven  has  put  the 
fate  of  my  companions  in  my  hands.  I  can  save 
them.  If  I  recoil  from  such  a  duty,  I  shall  be 
their  murderer  !  my  peace  of  mind,  my  honour, 
will  be  gone  forever !  I  shall  feel  myself  the  most 
contemptible  of  men  ! " 

For  a  long  time  I  hesitated,  but  all  at  once  my 
resolution  was  taken.  I  descended  the  stairs  and 
made  my  way  into  the  hall. 

"Have  you  never  seen  this  watch?"  the 
provost  was  saying  to  Gr£del.  "Try  to  recol- 
lect, madame." 

30 


The  Dean's  Watch 

Without  awaiting  her  answer,  I  advanced  and 
replied  myself,  in  a  firm  voice :  "  This  watch,  sir, 
I  have  seen  in  the  hands  of  the  assassin  himself,  I 
recognise  it,  and  I  can  deliver  the  assassin  into  your 
hands  this  very  night,  if  you  will  but  listen  to  me." 

Profound  silence  for  a  moment  followed  my 
address.  The  astounded  officials  looked  at  each 
other ;  my  comrades  seemed  to  revive  a  little. 

"Who  are  you,  sir?"  demanded  the  provost, 
recovering  himself. 

"lam  the  comrade  of  these  unfortunate  men, 
and  I  am  not  ashamed  to  own  it,"  I  cried,  "  for  all, 
all  of  them,  though  poor,  are  honest.  Not  one  of 
them  is  capable  of  committing  the  crime  they  are 
accused  of." 

Once  more  there  was  silence.  The  great 
Berthe  began  to  sob  under  her  breath.  The  prov- 
ost seemed  to  reflect.  At  last,  looking  at  me 
sternly,  he  said : 

"Where  do  you  pretend  you  will  find  the 
assassin  for  us  ?  " 

"  Here,  sir,  in  this  house,  and,  to  convince 
you,  I  only  ask  to  speak  one  moment  to  you  in 
private." 

"  Come,"  said  he,  rising. 

He  motioned  to  the  chief  detective,  Madoc, 
to  follow  us,  and  we  went  out. 

3i 


The  Dean's  Watch 

I  ran  quickly  up-stairs;  the  others  close  be- 
hind me.  On  the  third  story,  I  stopped  before 
the  window,  and  pointed  out  the  tracks  in  the 
snow. 

"There  are  the  assassin's  footsteps,"  said  I. 
"  This  is  where  he  passes  every  evening.  Night 
before  last  he  came  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Last  night  he  was  here ;  no  doubt  he  will  return 
to-night." 

The  provost  and  Madoc  looked  at  the  foot- 
steps for  several  moments  without  saying  a  word. 

"  And  how  do  you  know  these  are  the  foot- 
prints of  the  murderer?"  asked  the  chief  of 
police,  incredulously. 

I  told  them  about  the  man's  entrance  into 
our  garret,  and  pointed  out  above  us  the  lattice 
through  which  I  had  watched  his  flight  in  the 
moonlight.  "  It  was  only  by  accident,"  I  said, 
"that  I  had  discovered  the  footsteps  this  morn- 
ing." 

"  Strange  ! "  muttered  the  provost.  "  This 
modifies  considerably  the  position  of  the  prison- 
ers. But  how  do  you  explain  the  murderer's  being 
in  the  cellar  ?  " 

"The  murderer  was  myself,  sir." 

And  I  related  in  a  few  words  the  events  of  the 
night  before. 

32 


The  Dean's  Watch 

44  That  will  do,"  said  he,  and  then,  turning  to 
the  chief  of  police,  continued : 

"  I  must  confess,  Madoc,  that  these  fiddlers' 
story  has  seemed  to  me  by  no  means  conclusive 
of  their  having  had  anything  to  do  with  the  mur- 
ders. Besides,  their  papers  establish,  for  several 
of  them,  an  alibi  very  hard  to  disprove. — Still, 
young  man,  though  the  account  you  give  us  has 
the  appearance  of  being  true,  you  will  remain  in 
our  power  until  it  is  verified. — Madoc,  do  not  lose 
sight  of  him,  and  take  your  measures  accordingly." 

With  this  he  went  down-stairs,  collected  his 
papers,  and  ordered  the  prisoners  to  be  taken  back 
to  jail.  Then,  casting  a  look  of  contempt  at  the 
corpulent  landlady,  he  took  his  departure,  followed 
by  his  secretary. 

"  Madame,"  said  Madoc,  who  remained  with 
two  of  his  men,  "you  will  please  preserve  the 
most  profound  silence  as  to  what  has  taken  place. 
Also,  prepare  for  this  brave  lad  here  the  same 
room  he  occupied  night  before  last." 

His  tone  admitted  of  no  reply,  and  Mme. 
Gr6del  promised  by  all  that  was  sacred  to  do 
whatever  they  wished,  if  they  would  only  save 
her  from  the  brigands. 

"  Give  yourself  no  uneasiness  about  the  brig- 
ands," replied  Madoc.     "We  will  stay  here  all 

33 


The  Dean's  Watch 

day  and  all  night  to  protect  you.  Go  quietly  about 
your  affairs,  and  begin  by  giving  us  breakfast.— 
Young  man,  will  you  do  me  the  honour  to  break- 
fast with  me  ?  " 

My  situation  did  not  permit  me  to  decline  this 
offer.     I  accepted. 

We  were  soon  seated  in  front  of  a  ham  and  a 
bottle  of  Rhine  wine.  The  chief  of  police,  in 
spite  of  his  leaden  face — his  keen  eye  and  great 
nose  like  the  beak  of  an  eagle — was  a  jolly  enough 
fellow  after  a  few  glasses  of  wine.  He  tried  to 
seize  Annette  by  the  waist  as  she  passed.  He  told 
funny  stories,  at  which  the  others  shouted  with 
laughter.     I,  however,  remained  silent,  depressed. 

"  Come,  young  man,"  said  Madoc,  with  a  laugh, 
"  try  to  forget  the  death  of  your  estimable  grand- 
mother. We  are  all  mortal.  Take  a  good  drink, 
and  chase  away  all  these  gloomy  thoughts." 

So  the  time  slipped  away,  amid  clouds  of 
tobacco-smoke,  the  jingling  of  glasses,  and  clink- 
ing of  cans.  We  sat  apart  during  the  day  in  one 
corner  of  the  saloon.  Guests  came  to  drink  as 
usual,  but  they  paid  no  attention  to  us.  At  nine 
o'clock,  however,  after  the  watchman  had  gone  his 
round,  Madoc  rose. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  we  must  attend  to  our  little 
business.     Close  the   door  and  shutters — softly, 

34 


The  Dean's  Watch 

madame,  softly.     There,  you  and  Mile.  Annette 
may  go  to  bed." 

The  chief  and  his  two  followers  drew  from 
their  pockets  bars  of  iron  loaded  at  the  ends  with 
leaden  balls.  Madoc  put  a  fresh  cap  on  his  pistol, 
and  placed  it  carefully  in  the  breast-pocket  of  his 
overcoat,  so  as  to  be  ready  at  hand. 

Then  we  mounted  to  the  garret.  The  too- 
attentive  Annette  had  lighted  a  fire  in  the  stove. 
Madoc,  muttering  an  oath  between  his  teeth,  ha- 
stened to  throw  some  water  on  the  coals.  Then 
he  pointed  to  the  mattress. 

"  If  you  have  any  mind  for  it,"  said  he  to  me, 
"you  can  sleep." 

He  blew  out  the  candle,  and  seated  himself 
with  his  two  acolytes  in  the  back  part  of  the 
room  against  the  wall.  I  threw  myself  on  the 
bed,  murmuring  a  prayer  that  Heaven  would  send 
the  assassin. 

The  hours  rolled  by.  Midnight  came.  The 
silence  was  so  profound  I  could  scarcely  believe 
the  three  men  sat  there  with  eye  and  ear  strained 
to  catch  the  least  movement — the  slightest  sound. 
Minute  after  minute  passed  slowly — slowly.  I 
could  not  sleep.  A  thousand  terrible  images 
chased  each  other  through  my  brain.  One  o'clock 
struck — two — yet  nothing — no  one  appeared. 

35 


The  Dean's  Watch 

At  three  o'clock  one  of  the  policemen  moved. 
I  thought  the  man  was  coming — but  all  was  silent 
again  as  before.  I  began  to  think  that  Madoc 
would  take  me  for  an  impostor,  to  imagine  how 
he  would  abuse  me  in  the  morning.  And  then 
my  poor  comrades,  instead  of  aiding,  I  had  only 
riveted  their  chains ! 

The  time  seemed  now  to  pass  only  too  rapidly. 
I  wished  the  night  might  last  forever,  so  as  to 
preserve  at  least  a  ray  of  hope  for  me. 

I  was  going  over  the  same  torturing  fancies  for 
the  hundredth  time — on  a  sudden,  without  my  hav- 
ing heard  the  least  sound — the  window  opened — 
two  eyes  gleamed  in  the  aperture — nothing  moved 
in  the  garret. 

"They  have  gone  to  sleep!"  thought  I,  in 
an  agony  of  suspense. 

The  head  remained  there — motionless — watch- 
ful. The  villain  must  suspect  something!  Oh! 
how  my  heart  thumped — the  blood  coursed 
through  my  veins!  And  yet  cold  beads  of 
sweat  gathered  on  my  forehead.  I  ceased  to 
breathe. 

Several  minutes  passed  thus — then,  suddenly, 
the  man  seemed  to  have  decided — he  glided  down 
into  the  garret,  with  the  same  noiseless  caution  as 
on  the  previous  night. 

36 


The  Dean's  Watch 

But  at  the  same  instant  a  cry — a  terrible,  short, 
thrilling  cry — vibrated  through  the  room. 

"  We  have  him  ! " 

Then  the  whole  house  was  shaken  from  garret 
to  cellar  by  cries — the  stamping  of  feet — hoarse 
shouts.  I  was  petrified  by  terror.  The  man  bel- 
lowed— the  others  drew  their  breaths  in  quick 
gasps — then  came  a  heavy  fall  which  made  the 
floor  crack — and  I  heard  only  the  gnashing  of 
teeth  and  clink  of  chains. 

"  Light ! "  cried  the  terrible  Madoc. 

By  the  flame  of  the  burning  coals,  which  cast 
a  bluish  light  through  the  room,  I  could  dimly 
see  the  police-officers  crouched  over  the  body 
of  a  man  in  his  shirt-sleeves;  one  held  him 
by  the  throat,  the  knees  of  the  other  rested 
upon  his  chest;  Madoc  was  roughly  clasping 
the  handcuffs  on  his  wrists.  The  man  lay  as 
if  lifeless,  save  that  from  time  to  time  one  of 
his  great  legs,  naked  from  knee  to  ankle,  was 
raised  and  struck  the  floor  with  a  convulsive 
movement.  His  eyes  were  starting  from  their 
sockets — a  blood-stained  foam  had  gathered  upon 
his  lips. 

Hardly  had  I  lighted  the  candle  when  the  of- 
ficers started  back  with  an  exclamation  : 

"  Our  dean  ! " 

37 


The  Dean's  Watch 

And  all  three  rose  to  their  feet,  looking  at  each 
other  with  pale  faces. 

The  bloodshot  eye  of  the  assassin  turned  to- 
wards Madoc,  his  lips  moved,  but  only  after  several 
seconds  I  could  hear  him  murmur  : 

"  What  a  dream  \  —  Good  God !  what  a 
dream ! " 

Then  a  sigh,  and  he  lay  motionless  again. 

I  drew  near  to  look  at  him.  Yes,  it  was  he, 
the  man  who  had  overtaken  us  on  the  road  to 
Heidelberg,  and  advised  us  to  turn  back.  Per- 
haps even  then  he  had  a  presentiment  that  we 
would  be  the  cause  of  his  ruin.  Madoc,  who  had 
recovered  from  his  surprise,  seeing  that  he  did  not 
move,  and  that  a  thread  of  blood  was  oozing  along 
the  dusty  floor,  bent  over  him  and  tore  asunder 
the  bosom  of  his  shirt ;  he  had  stabbed  himself  to 
the  heart  with  his  huge  knife. 

"  Eh ! "  said  Madoc,  with  a  sinister  smile. 
"  Monsieur  the  dean  has  cheated  the  gallows.  He 
knew  where  to  strike,  and  has  not  missed  his 
mark.  Do  you  stay  here,"  he  continued  to  us. 
"  I  will  go  and  inform  the  provost." 

I  remained  with  the  two  police  agents,  watch- 
ing the  corpse. 

By  eight  o'clock  next  morning  all  Heidelberg 
was  electrified  with  the  news.     Daniel  Van  der 

38 


The  Dean's  Watch 

Berg,  dean  of  the  woollen-drapers,  possessed  of 
wealth  and  position  such  as  few  enjoyed,  who 
could  believe  that  he  had  been  the  terrible  as- 
sassin ? 

A  hundred  different  explanations  were  offered. 
Some  said  the  rich  dean  had  been  a  somnambulist, 
and  therefore  not  responsible  for  his  actions — 
others,  that  he  had  murdered  from  pure  love  of 
blood — he  could  have  had  no  other  motive  for 
such  a  crime.  Perhaps  both  theories  were  true. 
In  the  somnambulist  the  will  is  dead,  he  is  gov- 
erned by  his  animal  instincts  alone,  be  they  pacific 
or  sanguinary,  and  in  Master  Daniel  Van  der 
Berg,  the  cruel  face,  the  flat  head  swollen  behind 
the  ears — the  green  eyes — the  long  bristling  mus- 
tache, all  proved  that  he  unhappily  belonged  to 
the  feline  family — terrible  race,  which  kills  for 
the  pleasure  of  killing. 


THE  END  OF  THE  DEANS  WATCH 


39 


THE  PORTRAITS  OF 
ERCKMANN   AND   CHATRIAN 


EMILE   ERCKMANN. 

After  a  portrait    by  Otto  de    of 
Frere,  about  1856. 

LAmi  Fritz. 


The  popular  names  of  Erck- 
mann-Chatrian,  names  which 
recall  so  many  stirring  and 
patriotic  tales,  represent,  to 
our  great  regret,  only  a  very 
obscure  and  unaesthetic  ico- 
nography. We  have  but  very 
few  pictures  of  the  authors 
Madame  Thdrese  and 
Simple    and 

rural  in  their  tastes,  Erckmann  and  Chatrian,  with- 
out at  any  time  parading  that  celebrity  in  which 
so  many  authors  of  "  smart "  literature  take  so 
much  pride,  when  in  the.  most  brilliant  epoch  of 
their  fame  still  preserved  that  rustic  simplicity 
which  characterized  their  first  appearance.  With 
their  genial  and  upright  natures  these  two  Alsa- 
tians never  thought  to  put  themselves  before  their 
works.     They  were  men  of  a  bygone  age,  Nature's 

43 
M— Vol.  11 


The  Portraits  of 

philosophers,  wise  men  without  vanity.  Our  task 
in  respect  of  them  has  been  difficult,  but  we  hope 
not  altogether  infelicitous.  It  is  not  without  a 
certain  satisfaction  that,  by  the  side  of  other  per- 
sonalities so  often  popularized,  we  have  been  able 
by  dint  of  persevering  research  to  discover  two  or 
three  portraits  of  these  writers. 

Thus  we  have  given  as  frontispiece  two  pictures 
of  these  Siamese  twins  of  literature,  ingenuously 
painted,  in  timid  and  awkward  strokes,  by  one  of 
those  travelling  professors  of  the  familiar  art  of 
charcoal  and  pencil,  such  as  were  to  be  seen  in  the 
villages  of  Alsace  about  fifty  years  ago.  It  por- 
trays the  "Amis  Fritz  "  and  the  worthy  pastors 
seated  round  the  tables  in  the  old  Gothic  inns. 

A  detached  portrait  of  Erckmann  by  Otto  de 
Frere,  of  about  the  year  1864  or  1865,  gives  us  an 
opportunity  of  studying  more  closely  one  of  the 
collaborators.  Emile  Erckmann,  born  in  1822,  at 
Phalsbourg,  has  in  the  portrait  before  us  already 
passed  his  fortieth  year.  The  calm  features  and 
high  bald  forehead  of  the  professor  leave  an  im- 
pression of  gravity  and  thoughtfulness.  A  pair  of 
spectacles  which  he  wears  adds  to  his  pedagogical 
appearance.  Emile  Erckmann  represents  the  philo- 
sophic and  the  contemplative  side  of  this  romantic 
couple.      Born  in  a  town  which  has  given  so  many 

44 


Erckmann  and  Chatrian 


chiefs  to  the  French  army,  he  brought  to  their  joint 
work  a  deep  and  profound  study  of  the  Alsatian 
land,  together  with  the  silent  tenacity  of  his  race. 
The  confined  life  of  his  province,  rural  and  indus- 
trious in  times  of  peace,  implacable  and  ardent  in 
the  hour  of  strife,  finds  in 
him  an  able  and  truthful 
historian. 

The  first  portrait  of 
Emile  Erckmann  is  con- 
temporary with  Madame 
Thdrese,  one  of  the  most 
admirable  and  best  known 
of  their  romans  nation- 
aux.  A  second  portrait, 
which  is  reproduced  here, 
seems  a  trifle  older  and 
of  about  the  year  1868. 
That  year  the  Theatre  de  Cluny  in  Paris  produced 
a  piece  adapted  by  the  two  friends  from  the  novel 
Le  Juif  Polonais.  Erckmann  at  that  time  wore  a 
beard.  His  dress,  like  his  appearance,  is  without 
care,  but  in  that  serious  face  and  behind  those 
spectacles  there  shines  the  profound  and  concen- 
trated look  of  one  accustomed  to  gaze  upon  the 
waters  and  the  mountains  of  the  Vosges ;  and  the 
expression,  brilliant  as  a  fixed  star,  obliterates  all 

45 


ERCKMANN 

About  1868. 


The   Portraits  of 

that  is  crude  and  inharmonious  in  this  face,  which 
otherwise  reminds  one  of  a  German  schoolmaster. 
In  contradistinction  to  Chatrian,  who  spent  nearly 
the  whole  of  his  life  in  Paris  and  its  environs, 
Erckmann  seems  to  pine  for  the  green  woods  and 
scenery  of  that  beautiful  country  where  the  healthy 
and  simple  people  are  so  much  in  harmony  with 
nature.  Thus  is  he  shown  to  us  here.  His 
features  remind  us  both  of  Taine  and  Cherbuliez, 
though  he  possessed  nothing  in  common  with 
them  beyond  that  serene  look  full  of  reflection 
and  deduction.  Erckmann  worked  in  Alsace ; 
Chatrian,  on  the  contrary,  whose  administrative 
duties  kept  him  all  day  at  his  desk  in  Paris,  could 
indulge  his  taste  for  novel-writing  only  in  the  even- 
ings, occasionally  stealing  a  few  hours  in  the  day 
out  of  the  time  which  he  was  bound  to  devote  to 
his  Government  work.  To  the  calm  and  quietude 
of  his  companion  Chatrian  added  the  animation  of 
an  ardent  and  inventive  spirit.  To  the  reflective 
and  poetic  talent  of  Erckmann,  he  opposed  the 
hastiness  of  his  own  dashing  and  spontaneous 
genius.  To  his  pen,  no  doubt,  can  be  assigned  all 
those  parts  where  the  story,  leaving  the  description 
of  rustic  life,  plunges  boldly  into  dramatic  action. 
A  double  portrait,  from  a  photograph  taken 
about  1874,  depicts  them  in  the  constrained  atti- 

46 


Erckmann  and   Chatrian 


tude  characteristic  of  the  work  of  Daguerre  and 
his  followers.  Doubtless  they  were  together  in 
that  little  house  at  Raincy,  where  they  often  met 
to  discuss  the  plot  of  some  new  work,  and  where 
the  photographer  must  have  invaded  their  privacy. 
"  Only  once  did  I  see  that  little  garden  at 
Raincy,"  writes  one  of  their  friends,  "  but  I  can 


ERCKMANN    AND   CHATRIAN 

About  1874.     (After  a  photograph.) 

see  again  the  kindly,  portly  Erckmann  seated  un- 
der the  shade  of  a  cherry-tree,  a  picture  which  later 
on  I  saw  reproduced  again  at  the  Theatre  Frangais 
in  LAmi  Fritz — Erckmann  with  his  calm  face 
and  shrewd  eyes,  smoking  his  pipe,  and  throwing 
out  philosophical  theories  between  the  whrfTs  of 
tobacco.  He  is,  as  it  were,  the  dream,  and  Cha- 
trian the  reality  in  this  partnership.      Erckmann 

47 


The  Portraits  of 

would  willingly  have  kept  to  the  fantastic  tales  of 
their  early  days,  but  it  was  Chatrian,  the  type  of 
the  soldier,  with  the  mustache  and  face  of  a  some- 
what harsh-looking  non-commissioned  officer,  and 
a  strict  disciplinarian,  who  directed  the  collabora- 
tion towards  the  Napoleonic  era  and  the  national 
chronicles.  This,  in  a  measure,  explains  the  por- 
traits and  helps  us  to  show  them  both,  united  in  a 
work  simultaneously  conceived,  both  simple  and 
great  in  their  baffling  expression,  happy  in  knowing 
themselves  understood  by  the  multitude  of  the 
poor  and  humble.  That  photograph  dates  from 
the  representation  of  UAmi  Fritz  in  the  Theatre 
Francais. 

After  the  defeat  of  the  Alsatians  these  poets, 
deeply  touched,  sing  to  us  in  their  heartfelt  words 
of  the  picturesqueness  of  their  mountains  and 
forests,  henceforth  to  be  under  German  rule.  At 
that  moment  (and  it  is  also  the  last  portrait  we 
have  been  able  to  find)  Erckmmn  is  aged,  his 
beard  and  mustache  are  silvered,  his  appearance 
no  longer  that  of  a  professor,  but  rather  that  of  an 
old  officer  whom  the  close  of  the  war  has  thrown 
out  of  employment.  Chatrian,  on  the  other  hand, 
though  only  four  years  his  junior,  with  hair  and 
beard  still  abundant,  seems  alive  with  vigour  and 
strength.     His  glance  is  keen,  frank,  and  loyal,  his 

48 


Erckmann  and   Chatrian 


face  open  and  bold,  his  attitude  full  of  energy. 
No  picture  could  express  better  than  this  the 
striking  contrast  between  two  temperaments  so 
widely  dissimilar,  and  yet  so  well  designed  to  sup- 
plement each  other  and  form  a  complete  whole. 

Andre*  Gill,  in  a  typical  and  humorous  cari- 
cature, has  admirably  shown  the  expressions  of  the 
two  writers  as  their  faces  appear  above  a  jug  of 


ERCKMANN   AND    CHATRIAN. 

After  a  caricature  by  Andre  Gill,   1S79. 

beer,  each  with  an  Alsatian  pipe  in  his  mouth.  A 
peaceful  happiness  marks  th  ir  brotherly  features. 
They  are  enjoying  the  dramatic  successes  of  the 
Rantzau  and  Madame  Thdrese.  The  final  dis- 
agreement, which  did  not  happen  until  1890,  at 
Villemomble,  and  which  ended   only  with   Cha- 

49 


Erckmann  and   Chatrian 

trian's  death,  had  not  yet  come,  like  a  detestable 
intruder,  to  separate  those  two  strong  characters. 
Their  dreams,  their  work,  and  their  successes  were 
still  joint  property  at  the  time  Andre"  Gill  drew 
this  caricature.  The  two  writers  have  been  termed 
the  "Siamese  twins"  of  historical  romance.  One 
cannot  understand  why  these  two  figures,  so  full 
of  contrast,  were  never  delineated  in  painting  nor 
sculpture,  in  view  of  the  large  measure  of  success 
which  directed  attention  to  their  names.  Such 
incomprehensible  mysteries  do  sometimes  occur  in 
the  lives  of  celebrated  men,  and  we  fail  to  find  the 
solution  of  the  enigma,  which  forces  us  to  admit 
that  Erckmann  and  Chatrian  left  us  no  portraits, 
no  important  engravings,  no  great  popular  litho- 
graphs, nor  any  medallions  or  busts.  If  ever 
posterity  thinks  of  raising  a  monument  to  the 
memory  ^f  these  two  curious  writers,  the  artist  to 
whom  the  task  is  assigned  will  have  some  difficulty 
in  finding  any  other  valid  and  interesting  docu- 
ments than  the  few  pictures  which  are  collected 

here. 

OCTAVE  UZANNE, 


THE  END 


50 


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